The Voice of Rage and Ruin
by Vita Fidens
Summary: Sequel to "Down the Darkest Road, Something Follows Me." A/U Cassidy Taylor thought she'd escaped from her violent lover, Randy Orton. After five years, he's found her again. Has he really changed like he's claimed? Or will she slip back into her worst nightmare?
1. Chapter 1

_The phone wouldn't stop ringing, no matter how much Dean Ambrose – lately known as Matthew Goodman – willed it do so._

_He groaned and rolled away from the noise, burrowing his face into the hair of the redhead beside him and attempting to force himself back into the pleasant clutches of sleep._

_The phone finally stopped, and he sighed contentedly, wrapping his arm around the woman beside him – Kerri? Cherry? It didn't matter, although he found the idea of a redhead named Cherry mildly amusing._

_He only had a brief moment of silence before his phone began ringing again, vibrating madly on the nightstand._

"_Just answer the fucking thing," the brunette behind him growled, slapping him hard on the back._

_He whirled around, gripping her chin and wrenching her head up to meet his eyes. "Don't you fucking touch me like that ever again," he snapped. "Got it?"_

_Her brown eyes went wide before she nodded. He held her for a second longer before releasing his grip and sliding out from between the two of them, stumbling towards his phone._

"_What?" He answered, his eyes still half-closed and his brain much less than half-awake._

"_Dean?"_

_The name alone would have been enough to snap him into reality, but the voice that said it made him wonder if he was actually awake or still in that bed, listening to his phone ring and dreaming that she was calling._

"_Cass?" He asked, suddenly completely alert and fervently hoping that he was awake. "Is that you?"_

"_Yeah."_

_He glanced over at the bed, at the two sleeping women who had nestled together in his absence. "Can you give me a minute?"_

"_Um...I guess. Sure."_

_He covered the mouthpiece with his hand. "Hey," he said in the direction of the sleeping women. They didn't move. "_Hey_," he repeated a little more forcefully. The brunette rolled over and eyed him. "Get your shit and get out," he said, nodding towards the heap of clothes by the door._

"_Are you fucking serious?"_

"_Dead fucking serious," he hissed. "Get out."_

_She pulled herself out of bed, shaking the redhead awake and glowering at Dean while she got dressed._

"_Creep," she muttered as she stalked out of the bedroom, Cherry trailing behind her, confused and half-dressed._

_He heard his front door slam shut and he stuck his head out the door to ensure that he was alone._

"_Sorry," he said, bringing the phone back up to his ear and sitting on the bed. "How...how are you?"_

"_This isn't a social call, Dean. I needed to let you know that Randy found me."_

_His heart stopped for a brief moment before picking up at twice its previous pace. "Fuck," he whispered, bending over and resting his head on his hands. "When?"_

"_Today. He came into the restaurant. Sat right at a table and ordered a burger like...like it was normal."_

_She sounded calm, but he could hear that slight hint of panic in her words. She was terrified – and she had every right to be._

"_When are you leaving?"_

"_How can I leave? He knows. He knows who I am. He'll...he'll just find me again."_

"_So? You need to _try_," he spat, absolutely befuddled. "You can't just stay there and wait for him to get his hands on you."_

_She fell silent, and he could sense her pain, fear, and even her resignation in her lack of comment._

"_No, Cass," he said. "You're not going to give up. I'm not going to let you."_

_He heard her slight exhalation on the other end of the phone. "What are you going to do, Dean?"_

"_Come here. Fly out. Stay with me."_

"_I can't. What if he doesn't know who you are? It'd be a huge red flag. I'll expose you."_

"_I've told you a million times, _I don't care._ Let him come for me. I'll deal with him."_

"_I can't," she repeated. "I'm sorry. Just...take care of yourself, all right?"_

"_Cass don't you -"_

_He was cut off by a beep that let him know she'd disconnected._

"_Hang up," he sighed, dropping the phone on the bed beside him. He buried his head in his hands, running his fingers back through his hair._

_He reached for the pack of cigarettes on the nightstand, pulling one out and lighting it up._

_After he'd smoked half of it, he reached for his phone again and began looking up airfare._

_If she wouldn't come to him, he'd go to her._


	2. Chapter 2

I'd started my day as Nicole Almonte, a quiet but sweet waitress in a suburb of Portland.

I ended my day as Cassidy Taylor, a damaged, fearful woman sinking into the depths of Hell.

Yes, maybe I'm being dramatic. But I think I've earned that much.

I sat at my tiny kitchen table in my small apartment, drinking a beer and staring at the phone I'd just put down beside me.

I shouldn't have called him. I knew that. I'd gone back and forth for at least an hour before I finally stopped thinking about it and just dialed his number.

He deserved to know that he was in danger. I didn't regret giving him that information. Although I did regret not giving it to him over text. Things never went well when we spoke. We could be civil when it was just words on a screen, but hearing each others' voices...it seemed to bring out the worst in us.

I realized that I'd pushed him away once we had finally settled into our new lives, and I think he realized that he took my pushing a little too well – he drifted away, until it became impossible for the two of us to even be in the same room.

I'd sent him packing. I didn't have any regrets; we'd served our purpose in each others' lives. We'd freed each other from the ridiculous chains binding us to one hell of an unhealthy relationship. The time had come to move on completely.

Realizing that truth didn't make it hurt less. It didn't make it any easier to hear his voice, to hear the obvious concern and fear for me in his tone. I knew he wasn't afraid for himself; he never had been. It was always me that he was afraid for.

"Fuck it," I muttered. I'd already spent entirely too many nights shoving these thoughts around my head, and I knew that revisiting them was just a way to try and stave off thinking about Randy.

Fuck. Randy.

He hadn't changed much in the years that had passed. There was a little more gray in his beard; the lines around his eyes were etched a bit more deeply than they had been the last I saw him. But his smile was still the same.

I wasn't sure how I felt about that. I felt as if he should never smile again after what he'd put Dean and I through. I'd wanted to grab a knife from the kitchen and cut the lips off of his face so that he wouldn't be able to make that joyful expression.

Still, I'd managed to make it through lunch without resorting to desperate acts of violence. I'd managed to give them competent, if not distracted, service.

He caught up with me at the bar after lunch. Sami had stepped out to take a break, and I was taking care of some of his prep – mostly for something to do, even though my hands were shaking so badly that it's a miracle I didn't include a fingertip in with the lemons I was slicing.

"I've changed, Cass," he said in a low voice as he watched me work. He'd slid onto the bar stool directly in front of me.

"Yeah?" I asked, chopping at a lemon a bit too viciously. "Then why are you here?"

"Because I want you to know that you don't have to be afraid anymore. I know what kind of life you must've had these last few years – always looking over your shoulder, wondering if I was going to catch up with you. There was no need. I've known who you were for the last two years, at least. It's taken me this long to figure out the best way I can show you that I don't want to hurt you."

I glanced up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time during this conversation. He looked sincere enough, but then again...Randy had always known just what he needed to do to put me at ease before dropping an anvil on my head.

"Chief of Police?" I asked.

"Coincidence."

I snorted. "Right. Coincidence. I'm sure."

He shrugged. "You don't have to believe me."

"Nothing is a coincidence with you. _Nothing_," I snapped. "I know better."

He fought to keep a small smile from blooming on his face. "Do you know who I was having lunch with today?"

"No."

"Come on. He should be at least a little familiar to you."

I shook my head, stalwartly refusing to give him any kind of opening to manipulate me into believing that he was here by pure chance.

"Andrew Harrington," he finally said. "He's the mayor of your city. Before that, though, he was a town councilman in...care to guess?" He paused, waiting for a response I didn't intend to give. "Ridgeville, South Carolina," he answered for me. "He moved here six years ago. Long before you did. He's been asking me to come up here for the past three years and interview for this job."

"So why now?" I asked.

He froze, his eyes studying me. "My wife was ready to move."

Of all the answers he could have given, that was the one I never expected. I glanced down at his hands, finally noticing the band on his left ring finger.

I met his eyes again, and he studied me calmly for several seconds. "Now do you believe me?" He asked.

"Thanks Nic," a voice said from a few feet away. I backed away from Randy to see Sami coming back from break, grinning at me from under his mess of dark red curls.

"No problem," I said, stepping away from the bar and forcing myself to smile back at him. "Your turn to cover for me, though."

I'd booked it, taking off towards the back as quickly as I could while trying to appear casual.

I sat in the back office, trying to collect the desperate thoughts swirling around my head. Randy was married. Randy had a wife. And they were here in Rock Creek, Oregon instead of back home in Ridgeville, South Carolina.

I knew that this was no coincidence, but I wanted so badly to believe him. I wanted so badly to think that I was still safe.

I hung my head. He'd known where I was for years. I hadn't been safe; I'd only had the illusion of safety. I could feel the weight of my old life slipping back onto my shoulders, slipping on as snugly and as completely as a well-worn jacket...the kind you can put away for a short while, but when it comes back it still holds your shape perfectly.

In that moment, Nicole Almonte died.

And Cassidy Taylor, in all of her broken glory, returned to walk among the living.


	3. Chapter 3

After the first night of no sleep in what would be a long line of many, I made my way into work.

I was greeted with an annoyingly cheerful bartender, who handed me a fifty-dollar bill.

"What's this?" I asked, puzzled.

"The guy you were talking to yesterday asked me to give it to you for getting him his one beer," Sami explained, a sly note of teasing in his voice. "I got a twenty for my troubles."

"Only a twenty?" I smirked.

He shrugged, a small grin on his face. "It's to be expected. I'm not a pretty girl." He teased. "I expected him to leave his number for you."

I shook my head, trying to keep my face neutral. "He's married," I explained.

"The good ones are always taken, eh?" His smile grew wider. "So how do you know him? And why did he call you Cass?"

I'd lived my life as Nicole Almonte for so long that I'd gotten better at lying. It had been, after all, essential to my survival.

"It's short for Cassidy," I replied. "That's my actual first name."

"Cassidy," Sami said thoughtfully, turning it over in his mouth. "Cass. I like it. Why did you go with Nicole?"

I shrugged, more than a little uncomfortable with the sudden collision of my old and new lives. "I wanted a fresh start when I left South Carolina. So I decided to go with my middle name instead. New life, new name."

Sami leaned on the bar. "I get that," he replied. "So you knew him from South Carolina?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"What was he doing here? Visiting you?"

I forced myself to laugh. "Hardly. He's moving up here. He'll be our new Chief of Police."

"Nic, can I...be blunt?"

No. Please. "Of course."

"You seemed really uncomfortable around him yesterday. Is everything all right?"

I bit my lower lip, an action that didn't go unnoticed. Shit. "Well, if you must know – he's an ex-boyfriend."

Sami's eyebrows crept up his forehead. "_That_ guy? He looks like a total dumb meathead."

I laughed. "I was different in South Carolina."

"God, I guess so," he replied, drawing an expression of confused disgust on his face. "Do you have better taste in men now, at least?"

I could feel myself starting to blush – how could I say that after everything Randy had put me through, I currently had _no _taste in or for men? That would only invite more questions, and more questions were the absolute last thing I needed.

I was saved by a group walking in and standing at the hostess stand to be seated. It was just Sami and I today, so I had a good reason to rush away.

I hoped that he would drop it, and for once my luck held – we were so busy that he seemed to forget about it entirely. In all honesty, I actually let it go too...at least until Randy walked in.

He didn't want a seat at the bar. He wanted a table. Of course.

I could feel him watching me while I worked, simply sitting in his seat and allowing his eyes to follow my travels throughout the room.

When the lunch rush passed, he was still there. I swung by his table hopefully. "Can I get you anything else?"

_Please say no. Please let me leave the check and get away from you._

"I'll take another beer," he replied.

Of course he would.

"And, if you happen to have a minute now that it's quiet, I'd like to buy you lunch. I have a few things I want to discuss with you."

"I really shouldn't. I'm the only one here."

He met my eyes, studying me silently. "Then I'll wait right here until your shift is done."

We stared at each other for a moment. I could feel that my jaw had clenched and I was sure that I was glowering. He met my gaze blandly, waiting for my response.

"I'll see what I can do," I finally muttered, turning to get his beer.

Sami agreed to cover my tables, although I could see that this situation only reignited his curiosity. Terrific.

He kept a close eye on the two of us while I slid into the seat across from Randy.

"Did you get the tip I left for you yesterday?"

"Yes. That wasn't at all necessary."

"But welcome, I take it." He ran his eyes over me. "This must be a much different lifestyle than what you were accustomed to."

"Yeah," I replied. "I'm not locked up in a basement. It's a whole new world."

His eyes flashed hotly, his tongue worrying over his teeth. "I want you to take that and do something nice for yourself," he said in a low voice. "You deserve it."

"What's this all about, Randy? What do you want?"

"I just had a few questions. Kelly and I are looking to buy a house; I don't know a thing about the area. I don't know where to even begin looking. I thought you might be able to tell me some of your favorite neighborhoods."

"Ask a realtor."

"I'm asking you. I trust you."

I shook my head. "That's not what this is about. We both know that."

"What are you talking about? That's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about." He paused. "You really need to stop believing the worst of me."

"You really need to stop insinuating yourself into these strange little situations so that you can ask me bullshit questions. I'm not stupid."

"I never said you were."

"No, but then again you've never needed to. Your actions always said it for you."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry you got that impression from me. I don't believe that at all. I wouldn't want to be friends with you if I thought you were dumb."

My jaw dropped. "_Friends_?" I hissed. "Is that what this nonsense is all about?"

He shook his head. "Keep your voice down. Why couldn't we be friends, Cass?"

"Are you out of your ever-loving-fucking _mind_? Do you _really_ need me to run through all of the reasons why?" I could feel my face getting flushed, my blood pounding through my veins in a symphony of rage.

"No. I know our history just as well as you do. But things have changed. We've both moved on. We always...before things were so...complicated, we got along really well. I care about you, as a friend. I always will. I just want a chance to make it right."

"No," I replied, shaking my head. "No. If you want to make it right, Ran, just leave me alone. Just let me go and leave me alone."

I couldn't sit there for another second, so I stood up and walked away. I wasn't naïve enough to believe that this was over, but at the very least I needed it to be over for today.

When I came back out, he was gone – and a hundred dollar bill was sitting on his table.

I stared at it dumbly for several seconds, my eyes filling with tears. Did he really think that throwing money at me would make me like him?

"Nic?" Sami said, his hand gently falling on my shoulder. I felt my stomach clench with dread. I couldn't handle any more questions right now. "You know I'm here, right? If you need anything?"

I turned and gave him a small smile, nodding. He nodded back, his warm brown eyes studying me gravely.

"If he comes back, I can toss him if it makes you feel better."

"And make you fight a big, dumb meathead?" I teased, hearing the flat note in my voice. "I can't have that on my conscience."

"I'm a lot tougher than I look," he grinned. "I can carry anything you need on my shoulders."

He bent and kissed my cheek before heading back behind the bar. I couldn't help but feel like I was dragging him into a fight that neither of us was prepared for - but selfishly, I was so grateful that I wasn't fighting alone.


	4. Chapter 4

The rest of my day passed as normally as it could, given the drastic change in my circumstances.

Sami and I walked out together when the evening shift crew showed up. He seemed to be on the verge of saying something important, and I was grateful when he elected to hold his tongue. I was sure it would be about Randy, and I didn't want to think about him any more today.

We parted ways, Sami giving me a tight hug – unusual for us – and I climbed into my car. I just sat for a minute, resting my head on the steering wheel and trying to peel away the fear that had been built on my day.

Someone tapped their knuckles on my window. I didn't want to look up. I didn't want to see what was waiting for me. Logically, I knew that it was probably just Sami – he wasn't the type to hold his tongue, and with the way my day had gone I knew that I wasn't lucky enough to have escaped getting him involved in my ridiculous life.

The tapping started again, more insistently, and I finally looked up – and into the face of a ghost.

I froze, stunned, and opened my door directly into Dean's stomach.

He doubled over, backing away.

"Hell of a greeting," he growled.

"What are you _doing here_?"

He looked up, raising an eyebrow. "I came to help. Apparently as long as you're in a five-ton death machine with a swinging door mechanism, you don't need help. Message received. I'll just protect you when you're _not_ in your car."

I closed my eyes, shaking my head. "I told you not to come."

"You're welcome," he snapped.

"Tell me why I should thank you for being a big fucking idiot and putting yourself in such danger?" My anger was roiling darkly in my chest, and I knew that I was so angry because I was terrified for him. The big fucking idiot.

All of the emotions were bubbling through me uncomfortably – anger, fear, relief, gratitude – and I just couldn't handle it all. I started to cry, reaching for him and burying my face in his chest.

After a moment of hesitation, he wrapped his arms around me tightly. "Good to see you, Cass," he murmured.

I slapped him on the chest half-heartedly. "You're a moron, you know that?" I sniffled.

"Yeah," he agreed. "I always did have an underdeveloped sense of danger where you were concerned. You used to appreciate that."

"I still do," I admitted. "I just wish that you'd listened to me and stayed in Vegas." I pulled back and looked at him, shaking my head. "Why didn't you?"

"I wasn't about to let you go through this alone." He paused. "Have you seen him again?"

I didn't have to answer; he could tell by the look on my face. He sighed. "All right. Let's go somewhere and get a drink. I think we'll need a few to get through everything before it's all said and done."

"That," I replied, "is probably the most truthful thing I've heard today." I paused. "Maybe the only truthful thing."

He shook his head. "Well fuck. Come on."

We walked in silence to one of the quieter bars a few blocks away. We weren't in the mood for a loud, crazy crowd surrounding us – this was a somber occasion, and we needed the surroundings to match.

We were quiet for a long time, staring into our drinks and occasionally looking at each other. I didn't even know where to start, and Dean didn't seem to be in any kind of hurry to dive into the mess ahead of us.

"How have you been?" He asked. "You know, before all this bullshit started back up."

I shrugged. "Everything's been good. Pretty much the same. Working. Reading a lot. How about you?"

He shook his head. "You don't want to know. Trust me."

I looked at him – really looked at him – for the first time tonight. He was pale, his cheeks sunken in with dark hollows under his eyes. "So status quo then." I tried to keep my brain from wandering into the thoughts of his usual self-destructive behaviors. It wasn't my problem. I had enough of my own burdens to shoulder without adding his tot the mix.

"Yeah." He turned his glass over in his hands, not meeting my eyes. "Has he told you why he's here yet?"

"He says it's coincidence."

Dean's reaction was the same as mine had been – he snorted derisively, rolling his eyes. "I'm sure. What story did he spin?"

"Town councilman from Ridgeville moved up here, became mayor. Offered him a job as Chief of Police." I swallowed hard before this next part. "He says his wife was ready to move, so he accepted the offer."

Dean paused with his glass halfway to his lips. "Wife?"

"Wife," I confirmed.

He put the glass back down, worrying his tongue over his teeth. "Well. That's interesting."

"That's one way of putting it," I muttered, reaching for my own glass.

"So if he has a wife, what does he want with _you_?"

I shook my head. "He says he wants to be friends."

Dean started chuckling. It quickly turned into loud guffaws, hysterical peals of laughter that I could tell he wasn't entirely in control of.

I reached across the table and covered his hand with mine. His laughter slowly died down, and he casually wiped the resulting tears from his eyes.

"He expects you," he said around his occasional chuckles, "to believe that?"

"Yeah."

"Do you?"

I hesitated. "Absolutely not."

"Good," he said, grabbing his glass and chugging it. "You shouldn't."

He stared at me unhappily, and I already knew that he was getting ready to dive into the topic I just didn't want to revisit – why we'd fallen apart.

"I'm going to get you another drink," I said, pulling my hand from his and standing up. "Same thing?"

"Sure. Thanks."

I was standing at the bar, waiting, idly studying the room – which is why I happened to be looking at the door when Randy walked in with a short, pretty blonde woman clutching his hand tightly.

He saw me. Of course he saw me. He froze before raising a hand in a hesitant greeting.

I turned away. Coincidence. He expected me to believe that all of this was coincidence? Yeah right.

I glanced over my shoulder to look at Dean, but he wasn't looking at me. He was staring at Randy and who I presumed was Kelly, an unreadable expression on his face. Before I could stop him, before I could move, he stood up and approached them quickly.

I backed up from the bar, expecting him to launch himself at Randy. He didn't. He made a beeline for Kelly.

The bar was quiet enough that I could hear what he said to hear.

"Are you _fucking_ serious? What are you doing with _him_? Jesus, Kelly. Jesus Christ."

The realization slammed me in the chest – I may not have known who she was, but Dean certainly did...and he wasn't happy to see her.

Not one bit.


	5. Chapter 5

I froze. I had no idea what I should do in this situation.

The bartender forced me into action when he slid our drinks across the bar. It snapped me out of it, and I picked them up and went to Dean.

Kelly was staring at him with just as much uncertainty as I felt, glancing between him and Randy.

"What are you doing?" Dean growled to Randy as I approached.

Randy smiled, shrugging. "You took my girl," he nodded towards me as he flung his arm around his wife's shoulders. "I figured yours was fair game."

Dean took a step, and I put my body in front of his. "Drinks are ready," I said. "Come on. Stand down."

"Yeah, Dean," Randy echoed. "Stand down."

I refused to look back at him, realizing that he was attempting to goad me into a confrontation. Instead, I handed Dean his drink and lightly shoved his shoulder until he began to move.

"Tell me what's going on," I said as we sat back at our table.

He took his drink like a shot, still glowering over at the spot where Randy and Kelly had settled.

"Dean," I prodded when he didn't speak up.

He turned and met my eyes. "You heard everything you needed to," he said, standing up. "I need a cigarette."

I stood to join him, and he held his hand out. "Don't."

He walked away before I could protest, and I sat back in my seat and began wondering just how this situation had changed.

It wasn't just about Randy and I. Not anymore. It wasn't even about the three of us; it had grown into something bigger, something that stretched back beyond my experience with these two. I tried to recall a time Dean had mentioned another woman, had mentioned Kelly specifically, and failed.

All I'd known about were their mutual exploits in college. Well, and me. I knew all about what had happened to me, even if I tried to shove it away and deny that it had been my life.

I was forced to admit it – I had no clue what I'd gotten myself into this time.

"Keep your dog on a leash," a low voice said next to my ear, and I jumped back, glowering at Randy.

"What?" I snapped.

"You heard me." He paused, staring directly into my eyes. "If he comes near me or my wife again, I'll kick his ass. You keep him away from us."

He straightened up, shaking his head in obvious disapproval. "I really thought you knew better. I really thought that you'd gotten rid of him. Some things never change, do they _Cass_?"

It hit me then – he was angry that Dean was here. He thought that it was a permanent thing, and that Dean hadn't surprised the hell out of me by showing up tonight unannounced.

I wasn't going to go out of my way to correct that line of thinking.

"No," I replied. "No, _Ran_ – some things never change." I downed the rest of my own drink and stood up. "You stay away from me, and I'll keep him away from you. But if you come near me again...God have mercy on you."

His upper lip curled. "Big words coming from _you_. But you'd better realize...it's a small town, Cass. And I'm sure we're going to be seeing a lot of each other."

"I hope not." I threw my coat over my shoulders. "For your sake."

I walked out as he was in mid-retort. Part of me waited for that moment where I would feel his hands grabbing, yanking me back into his insanity and reminding me that I belonged there.

But he didn't, and I forced the thought into my brain – I wasn't _that_ girl any longer. I'd changed. I was made of stronger stuff now.

"Come on, asshole," I barked at Dean. "Walk me back to my car."

He raised his eyebrows, but didn't say anything as he fell into step beside me.

We'd gone a block before he spoke, tossing the remnants of his cigarette away. "You're really not going to keep asking? You're not going to hound me?"

I closed my eyes for a split second. "I don't care," I replied. "It's between you and him."

He blew air out of his nose in an approximation of a laugh. "And you don't think that means you're involved in it, too?"

"I'm choosing not to be."

"Yeah, well...Randy was never great about giving you the freedom to make your own choices, now _was_ he?"

"It's different now."

He grabbed my arm and spun me towards him, his brow furrowed while his eyes searched my face. "Don't tell me you actually believe that."

I yanked my arm out of his grip. "Why not?"

"Because you should know better. You saw what he just pulled in there. Nothing's changed, Cass...except maybe how dangerous he is. He's been at a slow burn for _years_ now, and he doesn't come in with guns blazing? That doesn't strike a wrong note with you?"

It did. I would've been completely blind or dumb to not be scared out of my wits. But I also didn't need Dean to know that.

"Yeah," I admitted. "What do you want me to do about it?"

He stared at me curiously. "Come back to Vegas with me. He won't be there for at least a few days. We can take off and find somewhere else."

I raised an eyebrow. "And what will you tell all your little girlfriends, Dean? I've got to imagine you have...what? Six of 'em on the string by now?"

His forehead smoothed and his lips pursed. "Is that really what this is all about?" He nodded. "All right, babe. Since you seem so intent on digging up the past, let me remind you of a few of your choice moments."

I shook my head. "This is stupid," I muttered, going to walk away. "You should never have bothered to make the trip. You just made things worse."

He grabbed my arm again. "Yeah, but at least I showed up when you needed me." He paused. "You didn't even _try_, Cass. Not once."

My heart sank down to my feet. Here it was – the conversation I'd so tactfully avoided in so many late-night phone calls.

"What did you expect me to do? Wait around forever?" He shook his head. "You wanna know the sick part? I would've. I would've waited until you were ready. I would've spent the rest of my nights on the piece of shit you call a couch if I knew someday I'd actually get to be with you. But that was never your intention. You don't get to be pissed off at me for figuring that out and moving on."

I blinked back tears. "You're right. I don't. But you don't get to tell me you love me one day and then bring home someone to fuck in my bed the next. That's not how that's supposed to work. You knew," my voice started shaking, "you knew that I was way too broken to be with you. So you rubbed it in my face that I couldn't..."

I could see his jaw shifting back and forth. "I never said you were broken. I don't believe that."

"Yeah, well...I am. Let's be real, here. I'll never be with anyone else. I can't. I thought you would understand that. I never thought I'd have to explain my pain to you."

He reached out and put his hands on my shoulders. "You don't have to. I know."

I shrugged away from his touch. "You've got a really interesting way of conveying that," I said, taking a few steps backwards. "You should go back home, Dean. You've got a life there waiting for you."

He shuffled forward. "And what about you?"

I laughed, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice as I continued to back away from him. "Me? I'm right where I need to be. The only man in the world who understands the sickness in my head has finally found me. There's nothing for me to worry about now...except for everything."

I turned and walked away as fast as I could, leaving him standing bewildered in the middle of the darkened sidewalk.


	6. Chapter 6

It wasn't the most productive thing I'd ever done, but I picked up a six-pack on my way home.

I'd given up drinking shortly after Dean and I had split. It just lead to too many late-night uncomfortable conversations. So I sobered up and the shameful conversations stopped. Imagine that.

Tonight, that possibility was the least of my worries.

I set the box down on the table and pulled my first one out, searching through my kitchen drawers for a bottle opener.

"Hello, old friend," I muttered as my searching hand finally found and closed around it. I popped the top on my first bottle and drank it quickly, sitting at the kitchen table and waiting for the blissful numbness to take over.

As I waited, my nerves jangled uncomfortably. It was a mixture of terror and adrenaline, one from each encounter I'd had tonight. I didn't want to feel that way anymore. I didn't want to have to think, to plot my next moves. Not yet.

I was so...out of practice. A ghost of a smile slipped onto my lips. This was something I never imagined I'd need to train for, but the truth was that during my time with Randy I'd gotten good at avoiding absolute destruction.

I didn't think he would be as patient with my learning curve this time. Not only that, but the rules of the game had changed so much these last few years. In truth, it was an entirely new game – and I was at a complete loss on how to win.

I pushed my head back, staring up at the ceiling, and began wondering how this cute little life I'd built had fallen apart in a matter of days.

I was right back where I never wanted to be – trapped between Dean and Randy, although they weren't exactly on the same team these days. That wasn't much of a consolation.

The call box on my wall buzzed. Someone was downstairs, waiting to be let in.

I stared at it for a minute before opening another beer. Nope. Not tonight.

The buzzing started again, continuing on for at least a minute uninterrupted before I stood up and hit the button that allowed me to make sure a murderer wasn't downstairs.

"What?" I barked.

"You're just of a lovely temperament this evening," Dean's voice came through the box in response. "You going to let me up?"

I glanced back at the table. Only four beers left. I wasn't going to share.

"Come on, Cass," he sighed. "Booze and cigarettes and we both know misery loves company."

I hit the button to open the door when he said "booze." I unlocked the deadbolt and sat back at the table with my beer, trying to act nonchalant even though I was terrified by his intrusion.

I'd just wanted tonight. I'd just wanted to be alone and wallow in my misery for one fucking night before reality pushed back in.

Dean dropped his own six pack on the table and sat beside me. "Great minds," he muttered, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and putting one in his mouth to light it.

He stared at me for a minute, exhaling a cloud of smoke before speaking. "We're on the same team. You know that, right?"

I swallowed hard, nodding and taking a sip of my beer to keep the tears from spilling out of my eyes. "Yeah."

"The only way we get through this is together. Same as before."

I looked up and finally met his eyes. He didn't seem hopeful or arrogant; we both knew that what he was saying was the truth.

"Yeah," I repeated. "Yeah, you're right."

Admitting that seemed to loosen something inside of me. I leaned back, staring at the ceiling again. "Any brilliant ideas?"

He laughed bitterly. "I already tried to get you to run off to Vegas with me. I'm officially tapped out on ideas after that one."

"I don't suppose we could kill him," I said flatly.

I could see Dean freeze from the corner of my eye. "We could," he said slowly, "but don't think that'll solve any problems for us."

I nodded. I'd guessed as much. "You want to tell me about Kelly?"

He reached for a beer and cracked it open. I waited. He hadn't refused outright, which meant he was going to talk as long as I didn't push him.

He shrugged. "I'm bad with women. You know that."

I swung my eyes to him. "There's more to it. I know better."

He looked away, picking at the label on his bottle. "What do you want to know?"

"Why she's here."

"That's something both of us would like to know."

I sat up. "Why are you being so obtuse about this? Just tell me."

He brought his bottle to his lips and took several pulls. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"No. But I think I need to. Whether I like it or not, we're about to go to war."

He nodded, and after a bit more hesitation he began speaking.

"There's not too much to tell. I met Kelly in college. I didn't think anything would really come of it because of mine and Randy's...activities..." He glanced at me to make sure I knew what he was talking about. I tried – and failed – to keep the expression of disgust on my face. 'Activities' was his kind way of saying drugging women and watching Randy take advantage of them sexually.

"She found out. One way or another. I could've been a drunken loudmouth, she might've walked in – I don't really remember. Doesn't matter. Important thing was...she kind of dug it. It turned her on.

"After I found that out...well, we had a lot more in common. I felt like I found the one woman I could be with." He laughed and met my eyes. "I loved her, Cass. I loved her in a dirty, twisted way – the only way I could ever love anyone."

I didn't know what to say. This went deeper than what I'd expected – I'd expected one of Dean's garden-variety month-long disastrous relationships; not love. Never love.

"It all fell apart, like it always does with me," he continued, taking one last puff and stubbing out his cigarette. "She left."

"Why?"

He ran his tongue over his teeth. "I asked her to marry me. She freaked." He leaned forward to grab his beer. "She might look normal and well-adjusted...but trust me, she's just as dangerous as Randy. If not more so."

"Great," I said. "Just great."

We both paused to drink more. "Why'd she throw in with Randy?"

He met my eyes blandly. "It wasn't a nice relationship. I did a lot wrong. And the break-up...well...I was nasty towards the end, as I always am."

There was something he wasn't telling me, and I knew it. I opened my mouth to say so.

"Drop it," he growled. "All you need to know is that she's dangerous as fuck. That's it. Everything else is...details."

I stared at him, wondering if I should push. She was dangerous. That didn't tell me much – who _wasn't _dangerous in this little scenario?

"All right," I relented. The last thing I wanted to do tonight was fight. Again. "So what's the plan for tonight?"

He laughed, his hard expression melting into one that was more familiar. "The plan is to get drunk and try to sweet talk you into bed."

After a minute, I laughed too. "Buddy," I said, grabbing my bottle, "it'll take more beer than what you've got here to make that happen."

"Yeah?" He teased, his eyes twinkling at me. "We'll just see about that."


	7. Chapter 7

I dug my nails into Dean's back, biting my lower lip.

"Jesus," he breathed. "How long has it been?"

"Doesn't matter," I replied, leaning up to kiss him.

As it turned out, the amount of beer we had was just enough to sweet talk me into bed. Truthfully, it didn't take much convincing. My life had flipped drastically lately, and I just wanted something familiar. I wanted comfort. I wanted to forget, for a few minutes, that things were falling apart.

Dean had always been good for all of that. No matter what else had happened between us, he was always able to help me put my head on straight to better deal with the coming storm. No matter what that might have meant.

Tonight, it happened to mean fucking my brains out.

I was only human.

He bent and latched his mouth onto my neck, pushing those thoughts away. "You doing ok?" He asked. I liked the breathless quality of his voice.

I turned and kissed him. "I'm fine," I assured him, pressing my hips against his.

"I think you're lying," he said, a small smirk on his lips. "You're not nearly drunk enough to actually be doing this."

I laughed, moving forward to kiss him again. "Oh shut up and enjoy it."

"Yes ma'am," he replied, pushing forward again.

I focused on all of the little things I'd missed about sex. The way the muscles in his arms contracted while he thrust; the curl of hair that fell over his forehead; how he turned his head away when he was trying to hold out.

It was immensely satisfying, in several different ways. I felt better when we were done. Clearer.

I think he did, too. He seemed genuinely at ease for the first time since his return. I watched him carefully as he lie beside me, flat on his back and smoking a cigarette.

He looked different. Thinner. I didn't want to think about the implications behind that.

"Have you been taking care of yourself?" I couldn't help but ask, nestling my body into his.

He wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "Yeah. I've been managing all right."

"Are you sure?"

He sighed. "What are you really trying to ask?"

I swallowed hard, tracing my fingers along his ribs. "What are you taking?"

He exhaled a cloud of smoke. "Oh, a little of this...a little of that. Nothing too consistently."

I could feel my lips pull up and I tried to keep the disappointment out of my voice. "You know I don't like when you do that."

"Yeah, well...you're not there."

The words hit me like a punch in the gut. "Yeah," I agreed, trying to keep my tone even. "Still."

He kissed my forehead. "You're worried," he said, a note of bitter amusement filling his voice. "Be careful; I might start thinking you care about me."

I closed my eyes. I wasn't going to get into this fight again. Instead, I moved closer to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and resting my head on his shoulder.

A few silent minutes passed. "Sorry," he mumbled, rubbing his thumb over my shoulder. "That wasn't fair."

I shrugged. "Let's just forget it, all right? I don't want to fight any more."

He dislodged me slightly to stub out his cigarette in the ashtray I still had on my nightstand. Turning back to me, he put two fingers under my chin to tilt my head up to his. His eyes searched my face for a moment before he bent and lightly brushed his lips against mine.

"I've missed you, Cass."

"I've missed you too."

He flopped back down onto the bed. "Yeah?" He asked. "Have you missed me stealing all of your blankets and rubbing myself all up on you while you sleep?"

I laughed, squeezing him in an approximation of a hug. "I guess we'll find out. If I wake up and throw you out onto the couch, you'll know."

"Nah, when you were annoyed with my bed behaviors _you_ would go sleep on the couch. I knew something was really wrong when I slept on the couch. Like I did for those last few months."

I swallowed hard.

"Are we going to talk about that?" He asked, his voice cautious.

"I thought we already did."

"You know we didn't. Not really."

"What do you want me to say?" I could feel my body tensing, and it seemed that he could, too.

"I don't want you to say anything. I just want you to listen. Are you willing to do that?"

I forced my body to relax against his and I nodded. I knew that whatever he said would only rip those old wounds open, but if we were going to get through this it was something that needed to be done.

"We were both wrong. We both could have done...so many things differently. We stopped talking. You pulled back inside of yourself; you pulled your heart back from me. I didn't know what to do. It feels like I _never_ know what to do."

He shrugged. "So I fell back on what I _did_ know. Just like you did with shutting yourself away. It wasn't right. I know that now. But what you did wasn't right either, and I need you to know that."

I blinked a few times. "I know," I agreed, my voice not quite as strong as I would've liked.

"Good," he said firmly. "Thanks for admitting that." He leaned over and kissed my forehead again. "Now that's out of the way, we can deal with this fresh circle of Hell we find ourselves in."

I wanted to laugh, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. We talked for a long while, pressed together in the dark. None of it was any kind of feasible plan, but it wasn't entirely unproductive – a lot of anger, a lot of fear, was expressed and shared. Knowing that we weren't going through it alone seemed to make it at least slightly more bearable.

At least for me, it seemed that way.

Apparently not for Dean. When I woke up in the morning, he – and all of his things – were gone.


	8. Chapter 8

I waited for a little while, thinking maybe he'd just gone out to grab coffee or something. He was a bit of a coffee snob, and one of his favorite places was only about a block away. He could've woken up early and decided to go grab a cup.

After an hour, I tried to call him. It rang twice and went to voicemail.

I tried not to be worried. I tried to immerse myself in other things and not watch the clock.

It didn't work well. I kept glancing at the door, expecting him to walk back in with a cup of coffee in his hand and a story to tell.

That didn't happen.

My phone finally rang around two that afternoon, and I picked it up before it could reach the second ring.

"Where are you?" I demanded.

He sighed. "Please don't be upset. I...I'm back in Vegas."

I swallowed hard, falling back into a chair without any conscious thought. "Vegas?"

There was silence on the other end of the line. I was about to speak again when he beat me to it.

"It's so easy in the dark. To not be afraid, I mean. It's easy when it's just you and me and we're not poking at all of those old wounds. But the morning came, and I saw everything so clearly. It's not just you. It's you and Kel and Randy. It's all just way too much for me. I can't...I can't handle it all."

"Yes you can," my voice came out a little harsher than I'd intended. "You don't have a choice."

"But I do," he replied. "They didn't come here for me. They went there for you."

"So you're just going to leave me here to deal with it."

I took his lack of comment as confirmation. "I wanted you to come with me," he reminded me after a moment. "I didn't want you to do it alone."

"And yet," I said, my voice slowly starting to gain heat, "and fucking yet...you left me here to do just that. You're a real champ, you know that? And you fucking wonder why I took cover and ran from you."

In some small part of my brain, I knew I'd regret saying all this – but once the words started I couldn't stop them.

"You fuck up every good thing you're given," I spat. "You do it without objection; you don't even fucking _try_ to change that nasty little trait of yours. You steamroll people and you hurt them and you never once fucking apologize, you just smile enough to show off your dimples and tell people that's just how you are.

"Well it's not how you fucking _have_ to be. You choose to be that way. You choose it because you're a goddamn coward and somewhere deep down inside you know that."

I took a breath. "Enjoy Vegas," I snapped. "I'll make sure to have my ashes sent to you once Randy's done with me."

I hung up. I didn't want to hear his response.

I sat there for a long time, trying to avoid thinking about this too much. The hurt still nestled its way into my stomach, settling there in a hard pit that I felt every time I breathed.

"It doesn't matter," I said, standing up. "I can handle this."

I knew that I was lying to myself. It _did_ matter, and I _wasn't _sure I could handle it. But unlike Dean, I didn't have a choice. I couldn't just up and run away. It was about more than knowing Randy could find me.

After all the years that had passed, I still had nightmares. Not about what he'd done towards the end, but about the beginning of our relationship – when he'd still been sweet and normal.

For me, that was worse than dreaming about his brutality. I still tried to deny that I'd actually loved the man, but those dreams served as reminders of a time when I hadn't known that he was a monster. They served as a reminder that I wasn't nearly as smart as I wished I was, and that I still needed to guard myself from ever going through something like that again.

I bit my lower lip as the thought skated around the periphery of my direct conscious line of thinking. I knew that I needed to stay, to prove to myself that I was stronger and smarter and that I'd beaten him. It was stupid and prideful, and I knew that. But at the same time, I was certain that it was something I needed to do.

If I left, he would follow me. And I'd be stuck in the same predicament, over and over again, until something changed.

This time, I was going to make something change. I was going to stay right here. Stay in Nicole Almonte's life, and see what happened. I'd prepare myself for everything I could, knowing that this time there was no Bob to come rescue me. There was no Dean, swinging in to pull me from the burning building.

All I had was me. And I was determined that it was all I was going to need this time.


	9. Chapter 9

I tried to slip back into Nicole Almonte's life over the next few days.

It felt wrong. Unlike actually _being_ Nicole Almonte, I felt like I was just wearing her skin. I tried to figure out why that was and realized that Cassidy Taylor's worries were also Nicole's now. As much as I didn't like it, my two lives had collided and I couldn't just go back to the way things were before it had happened.

I could, however, create something new. Something that would fit my current situation. I could be Cassidy Nicole Almonte, the lie that had fallen so easily from my lips for a curious co-worker. I could bring that lie to life.

I realized that it wasn't really a matter of choice – if I wanted to survive and maintain some sanity, I was going to have to adopt that life I'd made up on the fly.

It felt a little easier after that. I began to feel more whole, more connected instead of just floating around in my own head.

Randy didn't try to get in touch with me. I kept waiting for his resurgence and whatever chaos that would bring, but when it finally happened it wasn't at all dramatic.

At least, it wasn't at first.

It was three days after Dean had left. He came into the restaurant shortly after the lunch rush subsided, wearing a suit and tie – work clothes. He settled himself at one of my tables, slouching slightly in his chair and avoiding my eyes.

I'd been waiting for this moment. I didn't dread seeing him. Instead, I brought him over his usual drink and placed it on the table in front of him. He glanced up to thank me, and I met his eyes and held his gaze.

"I'm not afraid of you," I said in a low, clear voice. "I don't know what you're hoping to accomplish by constantly intruding my life, but it's not going to work. I'm not the same person. So whatever you're trying to do, just stop now and save yourself the trouble."

He stared at me for a few moments, his expression blank.

"Now what can I get you for lunch?" I asked, putting on my bright waitress smile. I think he was too stunned to do anything but ask for a burger, which I gladly jotted down on my pad. I dropped his order off in the kitchen and went about cleaning up after the rush, aware that he was watching me but refusing to be rattled by it.

I brought him his food when it was up, got him a refill, and went right back to ignoring him. I could see his cheeks get a little ruddy and realized that I'd either embarrassed or pissed him off. I didn't really care either way; he was leaving me alone.

I dropped his check off without a word, and he slapped cash down on the table before shrugging back into his jacket and leaving.

He left me a fifty-dollar bill on a thirteen-dollar check. I was fine with that arrangement. If he wanted to come in and stare at me while I worked, remain silent, and leave me a thirty-seven dollar tip for my troubles...great. I could handle that.

I pushed through the rest of my shift feeling like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I'd confronted him and lived. He hadn't given me any indication that he was anything but on-board with this notion of leaving me the hell alone.

My day didn't get any better – the waitress with the shift after mine no-showed, which meant I was stuck until my boss could find a replacement. On such short notice on a Tuesday night, it was impossible. I was there for a double.

I tried to make the best of it. Money was tight, so the extra cash wasn't going to go to waste. Besides, at the end of my shift I'd be so tired that maybe I'd actually sleep well tonight.

It was all going pretty smoothly until Randy came in. He was in jeans and a t-shirt this time, and he didn't bother with a table – he went straight to the bar.

I decided not to let it get to me. He wasn't infringing on me this time; he was bothering Jess, the bartender on tonight. I let it go.

We weren't overwhelmingly busy, but we were steady. It was easy to forget about all of the patrons at the bar, not just Randy, when I was constantly moving.

I finally had a chance to glance that way when I began my closing work. He was still there, and he looked like he was settled in. That actually comforted me further – the bar closed later than the dining room, so if he was intending to be there for a while he wasn't going to be bothering me.

I finished up my side work feeling oddly cheerful. Sure, things had taken a bit of an...unexpected...turn the last few days, but maybe I could get back to my old life yet. There'd been a few disturbances, but things really seemed to be slowly inching back towards normal.

It gave me hope.

My last duty of the night was to fill out my time card and cash in my tips. That last duty brought me to Jessica, as the bar cash register was the only one still open and she usually needed the change. We chatted idly for a few minutes while she counted everything out and handed me back the appropriate bills, but once they were in my hand I didn't stick around.

It had been a long day and I just wanted to go home.

I almost made it to my car. I was only a few steps away when a hand grabbed my arm and began dragging me towards the back of the building.

"You know what I wanted today?" Randy asked as he walked, his hand firmly encircling my elbow. "I just wanted to see you. I wasn't going to try to talk to you or ask you stupid questions or even pick a fight about Dean. It was a miserable day, and I just wanted to look at you."

He flung me back behind the building. I lost my footing, stumbling, and nearly fell. By the time I righted myself again, he was on me.

He wrapped one arm tightly around my throat from behind, placing his other arm around my waist. "You always had terrible timing, Cass. Or Nicole. Whoever you're trying to be this week. You really picked the wrong day to give me a grand speech about how you've changed and I'm not a part of your life anymore."

He squeezed my neck just enough to cut off my air for a few seconds. Just long enough and hard enough to show that he wasn't playing around – as if I'd had any doubts about that.

"I think," he continued, the hand around my waist slowly sliding towards the button on my jeans, "that you're trying a little too hard to be tough. I think you're scared."

He popped the button on my jeans, tightening his grip around my neck as I tried to squirm away.

"Take it easy," he commanded. "Let me finish."

He slid his hand inside my jeans and panties, sliding his fingers down to lightly rub my clit.

"Like I was saying..." he murmured close to my ear, pulling my body back into his. "You're trying to show me that you're different now, that you're a whole new flavor of woman. But you know what, babe?"

He slid his fingers down and pressed two of them up inside of me. This time, I was able to pull away without any objections – he allowed me to move.

I turned back to face him, horrified, and watched as he stuck his fingers in his mouth and sucked the moisture off of them.

"You still taste just like plain old Cass to me," he said, an amused grin spreading on his face. "And in case you didn't get the memo – Cassidy Taylor belongs to Randy Orton. You should remember that, _Nicole_."

I waited, stunned, for him to come towards me again. But he didn't. He stuck his hands in his pockets and walked away, leaving me with my pants pushed to my knees and my heart slamming against my ribcage.

I realized then that he would never stop. I'd been kidding myself.

Wiping tears from my cheeks, I pulled my pants back up and made my way back to my car. Shaking, I drove myself home and curled up on my bed still wearing all of my clothes once I got there.

I was finally starting to calm myself down, my breath no longer hitching in my chest and my heart not feeling like it was going to beat a path out of my chest.

That's when the text messages came rolling in.


	10. Chapter 10

'hey dumb slut what u doing spreading your legs for anything that moves?'

'why won't u spread em for me?'

'why don't i come over there and show u what u've been missing'

'bet u'll love my dick'

I stared at the phone, completely perplexed. The number came up as Restricted – unsurprising, given the nature of the messages.

A flare of anger burned in my chest. It wasn't enough that he'd cornered me and molested me tonight, now he was going to blow up my phone with these stupid messages?

'Randy, stop being such an asshole.'

'who's randy? last dude u let fuck ur diseased pussy u slut?'

I was about to reply again and tell him to seriously cut the shit, but something stopped me. This wasn't his style. He would've let me know, subtly, who he was – he wouldn't be stupid enough to state it outright, but he'd want me to know that he found me.

Besides, this person...frankly, they seemed a lot more stupid than Randy. It was more childish and vulgar than he would be, even if he wanted to send me nasty messages.

I decided it was probably some kid, bored on a Tuesday night. He was looking for a response. I wasn't going to give him one.

Deep down, it still struck a wrong note with me – the timing was _too_ convenient to be a coincidence. But if I thought about it hard enough and made a connection, I'd be even more frightened than I already was...and then I'd do something immeasurably stupid.

I didn't need to do anything immeasurably stupid. Not right now.

I turned my ringer off. One problem at a time.

I took a few deep breaths. I already knew what I had to do – run as fast and as far as humanly possible. I just needed to find the best way to do it.

I would need to keep my identity as Nicole Almonte. Cassidy Taylor's disappearance and sudden re-emergence would raise some red flags. If I kept Nicole's identity, I'd have a stable job and credit history. That made things infinitely easier.

First thing I needed to do was go in and give my two-weeks' notice and ask them to keep it quiet. I'd have to hunt down someone to sublet my apartment or try and break the lease. That might be a bit of a problem. Then, if I could manage to get out of my place, I'd need to sell off anything I couldn't carry. Thankfully, I hadn't accumulated much – my ratty couch, bed, and kitchen table were about all I needed to be concerned with.

After that...get in the car and take off. It didn't matter where, really. I'd drive until I found a place that felt like home.

Then...I'd hunker down and wait for him to find me again. Lather, rinse, repeat.

The enormity of it hit me in the chest. I'd never be safe again, not really. I'd always be running.

I curled up into myself, wrapping my arms around my knees.

There were no good options here. Run for the rest of my life – however long that might be when he finally caught me – or stay here and have a drastically reduced life expectancy.

I thought, idly, of killing myself and ending it. It was a thought that had plagued me from the first few months after I'd escaped Randy the first time. It wasn't necessarily a plan, just an undercurrent to all of my conscious thoughts. It seemed to always be in the back of my mind as the last resort, the ultimate way to escape him and his torment forever.

The intercom system buzzed out in my living room. I ignored it, pulling my legs tighter into my chest. Nope. Nope nope nope nope _nope_. I was done for tonight, thanks.

It buzzed again, held longer this time.

"Cassidy!"I heard him yelling down in the street. "Let me up!"

Fuckin' A. I knew him well enough to know he'd just stay down there until he saw me. Rather than let him into my home, I forced myself to stand up and leave my apartment, descending the stairs to see him standing in front of the door, finger pressed tightly to the button for my intercom.

I cautiously cracked the door open. "What, Randy?"

"I am so sorry," he surprised me by saying. "That was just...really stupid. And wrong. And I am really, really sorry."

"If you're so sorry, why are you sending me disgusting text messages?" I snapped. "I'm not stupid. Stop treating me like it."

I went to shut the door, but he shoved his foot in the way. "What are you talking about?" He asked, looking truly puzzled. "I don't have your number."

I gave him a look.

"I'm serious. Do you think I would've showed up if I could have just called you and apologized? I know you probably don't want to see me, and I don't blame you one bit."

I studied him for a minute. "You're not lying?"

"No. Cass, let me see what you're talking about."

"You're not going to come upstairs."

"I'll wait here. Go get your phone."

I elected to humor him, bringing my phone down and handing it over to him wordlessly.

He scrolled through the messages, his expression growing more and more concerned. "Have you looked at these?" He asked.

"Only the first few," I admitted. "Why?"

He handed the phone back. I only read the last one – 'u stupid bitch i'm gonna cut your eyes out and fuck ur skull' before another one came in.

There was no way it was Randy. He was standing right here in front of me, and he didn't have a phone in his hand.

'who's that tonight's trick?'

I blinked a few times and looked up at the street, glancing around to see if there was anyone in sight.

'haha dumb cunt u think u can find me? try it i dare u. see what happens.'

I handed it back to Randy, who read them with a blank expression.

"Let's get inside, Cass," he said, his voice incredibly calm. His eyes, however, began searching the area like mine had. That worried me more than anything. "Let's just get off the street. We'll go upstairs and I'll call this in, all right?"

"Do you really think...?" I trailed off as he looked at me, his blue eyes hard in his face.

"Yeah, I think we need to," he replied. "Just until we get this checked out and make sure it's just some stupid prank."

"Ran, really –"

"No, Cass. Just...trust me on this one thing, all right? I'm not acting like your ex-boyfriend; I'm acting like a cop. And as a cop, I'm saying...let's just get upstairs."

His posture, his demeanor, his...everything...told me that he wasn't fucking around. There were only a few times in our life that I'd seen him like this, and each time it had been serious.

My phone lit up again, and that settled it for me. I opened the door all the way and I did something I never imagined I would. I stood aside and let him in.


	11. Chapter 11

I waited cautiously by the door, ready to bolt in case his intentions were less than noble.

He barely noticed, going immediately to my window and peeling back the curtain to study the street from a higher vantage point.

Once he was satisfied with what he saw, he pulled out his own cell phone and started dialing. I only half-listened to his conversation, which seemed entirely legitimate as far as I could tell.

"Cass," he caught my attention, waving at me. "I need your number so the guys can call your cell company and try to get the number that's sending these messages."

I recited it to him, and he repeated it into the phone. He listened to the person on the other end for a few seconds, chewing on his lower lip.

"Call me back," he said. "Thanks."

He hung up and turned back to me. "They're going to look into it. Hopefully we'll have this all resolved in a few minutes."

"That'd be great. Thanks."

"No problem. Is there anybody who would have a reason to be bothering you?"

"You mean besides you?"

He shot me a look. "Yes, besides me. You know it's not me."

"No, it's not you...but it could be your wife."

He rolled his eyes. "If _I _don't have your number, how would _she_ have your number?"

"You tell me."

He took a deep breath. "Cassidy, my wife doesn't have anything to do with this. Just...please. Put me aside for a minute. Who else would have a reason to be upset with you?"

I glanced away from him and tried to focus. I guessed that Dean would be upset with me, but he would usually just go on and hurt himself instead of bothering me. Other than that, I was coming up blank.

"Dean's really the only other person," I replied. "I don't think he'd do this, though."

"Why would Dean be upset with you?"

"Are you asking as a cop or as Randy?"

"Little bit of both," he admitted.

I sighed. "We didn't part on the best of terms last time I spoke with him."

I expected him to ask follow-up questions about why we had fought, but he didn't. "When was the last time you spoke with him?"

"Three, four days ago."

"He hasn't stopped by or tried to get in touch with you?"

I laughed. "Stopping by would be pretty tough, seeing as it would require a plane ticket. But no, he hasn't tried to contact me."

His brow furrowed. "He's not living here in town?"

"No."

"So why... Never mind. None of my business." He shook his head. "So he's the only other person? Nobody's gotten mouthy with you at the restaurant lately? No sort of...traffic altercation or anything?"

"No," I replied, shaking my own head. I was genuinely befuddled. If it wasn't Randy, or someone connected to him, I didn't know who it could be.

"Well," he sighed. "Hopefully just some kid playing a prank. Although it's far from funny."

"If it's just a prank...how does this person know where I am and what I'm doing?"

He stared at me for a minute before glancing away, and I realized that he'd just been trying to assuage my frazzled nerves. This was more serious than he was letting on.

"You know, I could really use a drink," he said instead of answering my question. "Could I trouble you for a glass of water?" He flashed me a quick smile.

I went into the kitchen and filled a glass from the tap, bringing it back to him. He took it with a quick word of thanks, and I went back to my kitchen and attempted to focus on something more productive for a few minutes.

I'd always been able to find peace in a kitchen. It had been the one constantly sane place in my life over the last few turbulent years. Tonight, in spite of my roiling stomach, was no different. I worked myself into a steady rhythm – wash a dish, rinse it, put it in the drainer, repeat.

It worked great until I ran out of dishes. I watched the soapy water swirl down the drain and realized I needed to return back to reality now...and reality was my ex-boyfriend pacing around my living room, waiting to hear which new psychopath had decided to take a shine to me.

I steadied myself, pressing my hand against the counter and taking a deep breath. I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.

Randy's phone started ringing in the other room, and I cautiously stepped out of the kitchen to join him. He listened for a few minutes, lines of deep concentration drawn on his face.

"Well," he said when he hung up, "it's a non-carrier phone from Las Vegas." He glanced over at me. "Do you know anyone in Vegas?"

That son of a bitch. I swallowed hard and shook my head. "No," I lied. "That's really weird."

He could tell I was lying. I expected him to call me out on it.

He shrugged. "Well, that's that then. If you want to come down to the station tomorrow and make a report, I'd highly suggest it. In the meantime, we'll tell whoever it is to stop the harassment before legal action is taken. If they continue on after that, we'll have a reason to hunt this guy down and arrest him."

I nodded. "All right." I tried to keep my voice even in spite of the rage threatening to spill out of me.

He stared at me for a minute. "Hand me your phone," he said, holding out his hand. "I'll text him back and tell him to knock it off."

I did, watching his big thumbs fly across my screen as he composed and sent his message.

"I'm going to put my number in here," he said, his fingers still moving in a surprisingly graceful way. "Just in case. You can call me any time, and I especially want you to do that if he continues being nasty. 9-1-1 first, then me. Ok?"

I nodded. "Ok." I knew it wouldn't go that far. Mr. Ambrose was going to get the tongue lashing of a fucking lifetime once Randy was out my door, and if he ever reached out to me again he'd be sorry.

"Do you want me to stay?"

"No. I'll be fine."

He nodded. "All right. Cass, again...I'm really sorry about earlier."

Holy shit. How had I managed to forget about that? I was suddenly uncomfortable with him, my skin crawling where he'd touched me.

"Sorry doesn't fix it," I replied, crossing my arms over my chest.

He shook his head. "No. I know it doesn't. One of these days...when you see that you don't have a blessed thing to be afraid of, I'm going to meet up with you and we're going to talk about a lot of things."

He stared into my eyes, his facial expression bland – but I caught the wistful hope in his eyes.

"Until then, though...be safe, pretty lady. I'm around if you need me. Always will be."

He started to walk towards my door, completely unaware at how those words had punched me in the gut.

"Randy," I stopped him. He turned back to look at me over his shoulder.

"How the hell did you know where I lived?" Now that I had shifted my focus back to the situation with him, I realized that he shouldn't have known where I rested my head at night...yet, here he was.

It wasn't what he was expecting. He froze.

"Did you follow me?"

It didn't take a detective to notice the fleeting expression of guilt on his face. "I just wanted to – "

"Get out," I interrupted.

"I knew right away that I'd been a dick," he bulled over me instead. "I wanted to say that I was sorry. I am sorry. For...a lot of things."

"That's just fucking great," I snapped. "You keep showing it time and time again by doing things like stalking me and assaulting me in dark parking lots." I shook my head. "If you're really sorry, I'll say it again – just leave. me. alone. Got it?"

He blinked back tears. "I'm sorry I keep fucking this up," he replied after a moment. "I won't bother you, all right? But when you're ready, if you're ever ready, we have a lot to talk about." He paused, staring at me. "You won't believe me, but I still love you. I loved you when I was a broken piece of shit, and I expected it to stop once I got my act together. It hasn't. You're still the only woman for me, and I'll move heaven and earth to make it right if you'll let me."

I stared at him, mouth agape. On some level, I had know this was coming...but I sure as hell hadn't expected it to be tonight.

"Out," I finally said when I gained my voice. "Just leave."

He nodded, his eyes still boring into mine as if it was the last time he'd ever see me. I hoped it was, for my sake.

I half-expected him to rush at me, to try and force me to accept this declaration of love. But all he did was walk out of my door and close it firmly behind him.

I rushed up and clicked the deadbolt into place, listening as his boots clunked their way down my hallway and out of hearing range.

Once I was satisfied that he'd left, I picked up my phone and dialed Dean's number.

It went straight to voicemail.

Not to be deterred, I texted the "unknown" number back immediately after hanging up.

'Dean, you asshole – this isn't funny. If you have a problem, just call me and we'll talk like adults. Christ.'

It took a few minutes for the reply to come through.

'good guess, cop friends help u out with that? not dean sweetcheeks, but he says hi.'

I gave up for the night. I turned the phone off and flung myself back onto the bed to resume my previous activity – curling up, holding myself, and trying to stave off the fear that had surrounded me over the last few hours.


	12. Chapter 12

After a god-awful night of sleep, I rolled over and picked up my phone cautiously.

No messages.

I put it back on the nightstand, relieved and worried all at once. It wasn't just some stupid prank. I knew that now. This – whatever it was – was serious.

It didn't change my plans at all. I needed to leave, and the faster I did that the better off I would be.

That's how I managed to start my day on the floor, surrounded by paperwork as I searched for my lease. Not exactly the most glamorous way to run off, but hey – I had to be practical about this.

Once I found it, I waded through the stilted language as best I could. In essence, if I wanted to break the lease I'd be forfeiting my security deposit. No big deal.

The real issue came when I read what breaking the lease meant – I was going to be responsible for the rest of my rent. Eight fucking months of rent, upfront.

It didn't get any better the further I read. No sublets. Well shit. That didn't leave me with a ton of options.

My rent wasn't much, but there was no way I had eight month's worth of it just sitting in the bank.

If I worked my ass off and sold a few things, I might – _might_ – be able to get out of here in three months.

I put the blasted piece of paper down and decided that I was going to have coffee and then try to tackle this problem. It had been foolish to try with a shitty night's sleep and no caffeine in the first place.

Coffee didn't help the matter, and I was left just as stumped as I had been previously.

Glancing at the clock, I saw that it was time to get ready for work and see what fresh hell the day had in store for me.

Except...it didn't have one.

It was a rather routine day. No text messages. No visits. No extraordinarily large tips during the lunch hour, which I found disappointing in one sense and entirely calming in another.

In fact, the entire next week crept by with no word from either Randy or my mysterious Vegas contact. It wasn't quite enough to put me at ease, but I was at least able to sleep for a few hours each night. My hand was still clutched tightly around the handle of the kitchen knife under my pillow, but I did sleep.

"Working another double today, Nic?" Sami asked as I dragged myself in for the morning shift and made a beeline for the coffee pot.

I merely grunted in reply. Sami had known me well enough and long enough to know that any conversation prior to one cup of coffee was neither going to be productive nor entirely comprehensible.

He still approached me, although with the appropriate caution one might exercise when approaching a grizzly bear in the woods.

"Is everything all right?"

"Fine," I replied, finishing my pour and putting the pot back on its warmer. I immediately gulped several swallows down before making a face and adding some sugar.

"You're so tired you forgot that you like sugar in your coffee?" He asked. "But you're fine. Sure."

I turned towards him, expecting to see the twinkling mischief that was usually present in his brown eyes – but I only saw worry.

"Really, Sami," I mustered a smile. "I'm all right. Just haven't been sleeping too well lately."

"I'm amazed you've had time to sleep at all. You're picking up every shift that comes your way."

I shrugged, taking another sip of my coffee. "You know how it goes. Money's tight. Every bit helps."

"Yeah, but you can't enjoy it if you're killing yourself to get it. Maybe take a night off every now and again."

"And do what, exactly?" I tried so hard to keep the irritation out of my voice.

He shrugged. "I don't know, maybe go out for coffee with me."

I grinned, shaking my head. Sami had asked at least once a month after the first six months I'd known him. I was polite, telling him part of the truth – at twenty-seven to my thirty-three, he was way too young for me.

"Oh come on," he said, nudging me with his elbow. "You think I'd forget to ask?"

"Always hoping," I grumbled good-naturedly.

"One of these days, you're going to say yes. I'll wear you down yet." He winked at me. "Really, though – do you want to go out and grab a cup?"

I turned to give him a look, and he held up his hands. "No shenanigans, just as friends. You look like you could use one right now." He paused, taking in my unimpressed expression. "At the very least, you could use more coffee."

"I'll think about it," I replied, waving him off dismissively as I struggled to keep the smile off of my face. I liked Sami. Always had. So whenever he tried to get me out for coffee, it was always a bit of a boost – even if nothing would ever come of it.

"Yesssss," he said, pumping his fist in triumph. "See? Wearing you down, Almonte." He winked at me. "Don't take any extra shifts this week, all right? Get at least a bit of rest."

I shot him a salute. "Ay ay, cappy-tahn."

Once the coffee woke me up, it was actually a pretty good day. I swung by and checked my phone periodically – it had become something of a habit – but nothing unusual came through.

I tried to avoid thinking that I might be on the other side of this. Whenever I thought that, bad things happened to remind me that I'd never really escape it. I was well aware of this phenomenon, but the thought must have crept somewhere into my subconscious mind, because Randy walked through the door just when I normally would have been ending my shift.

"Can I get you a table?" My co-worker Katie swung by to greet him.

"Actually, I'm just here to see Ca...Nicole." He flashed her a smile, but she still looked suspicious of him.

"Sure," she replied slowly. "Let me just see if she's free."

She must have been able to tell from the look on my face. She didn't say a word to me, just went back to where he was waiting.

"I'm sorry," she said with a bright smile, "Nicole's a bit busy at the minute. Can I take a message for her?"

I did my best to look busy in the background – it wasn't hard; I had three tables come in mere minutes before he showed up.

"Sure. Could you just have her call Chief Orton, please? Whenever she has a free minute."

"I surely will," she replied with that same bright smile.

"Thanks."

He flashed her another smile – Katie, unlike most women, looked completely unimpressed by this show of charm – and bellied up to the bar.

I'd slowly worked my way towards the bar getting drink orders, and now I had no choice but to head up there and fill them. Sami had stayed a bit to help with the rush, and he managed to put together five of my four drinks in the time it took me to do two.

"You're a hell of a guy, Sami."

He put them on my tray with a wink and a grin, and as I turned away I caught Randy watching the two of us. He looked away immediately, but I could tell by the flush that came over his cheeks that he wasn't happy with our interaction.

Perfect. Just perfect.

I didn't have too much time to mull it over – we were busy. Sami's shift extended from staying a bit to help into the territory of a double, but he didn't seem to mind. He was always cheerful, quick with a joke, even as his hands flew along the bar making drinks. They seemed to do it of their own volition, with barely any input from the man himself.

He was a hard worker, and a damn good guy.

"Earth to Nicole," Katie said next to my ear.

I jumped and shook myself out of it. "Hey, sorry. What's up?"

She grinned at me, nodding towards Sami. "Not bad to look at, huh?"

I laughed. "No. He's really good at what he does; you ever notice that?"

"He's the best one we've got," she agreed. "You look bushed. I know you were here this morning, so I'm going to take the rest of the shift. We're slow enough now that I can handle it."

I looked at her gratefully. "Are you sure?"

"Honey, go home and get some sleep before you drop on the floor," she admonished me, waving her hand in the direction of the door.

"Thank you." I knew better than to keep asking if she was sure. I was bone tired and ready to go home.

Randy was still at the bar. Of course. I did my best to ignore him while I cashed out my tips.

"You headed home?" Sami asked, shaking two drinks vigorously beside me.

"Yeah, Katie's going to take over," I replied, smiling.

He paused to pour both shakers into their respective glasses and slide them across the bar. "You still free tomorrow? No doubles scheduled?"

"Not yet."

He turned his full attention to me for a minute. "So...you want to grab a coffee?"

I grinned, feeling my face flush. "You're persistent, you know that?"

"Maybe I just really like coffee. I think coffee is great."

I closed my eyes, shaking my head even as I smiled. "All right. Coffee. Tomorrow. After work." I opened my eyes to see him trying very hard to contain a smile.

"All right. Coffee. Tomorrow," he repeated. "I'll see you then."

"See you then," I repeated. He flashed me one last smile before turning back to the crowd at the bar.

I couldn't help but notice the one stool that was empty only fleetingly – Randy had apparently vacated the bar at some point during my exchange with Sami.

I held off for as long as I could, certain that he would be stewing outside waiting for me. When I walked out, I was greeted with the usual group of late-night drinkers on their smoke break. I searched the parking lot for his truck, but it was gone.

He was nowhere to be found.


	13. Chapter 13

I drove home, still expecting to come across him – but I didn't.

The rest of my night was uneventful. I fell asleep almost immediately, and I actually slept well. It was a much-needed change of pace from the last few weeks.

I woke up early and stayed in bed for a short while, enjoying the sunlight streaming in through my window.

I was going to miss my little apartment when I finally left it. I'd chosen it because it was bright and airy and just large enough to suit my needs. It was the one thing I'd really been picky about – I'd taken the first car in my budget and the first job that had been offered to me when I arrived in Rock Creek. Thankfully, both of those things had worked out – but the apartment was special. It had taken me some time to find.

I'd felt safe there, and after everything I'd been through safety was paramount.

Now, I was going to have to leave it again. That thought didn't sit well with me.

I rolled out of bed and began to get ready for my day. There was no point in dwelling on what I couldn't change. The last few weeks had been good, and I should just be grateful for that.

It was hard to settle back into the mindset of being grateful for the little things...I remembered a time when I'd been grateful just for a chance to step outside. It was hard to return to that because I was so damn angry. I shouldn't have to deal with this. I shouldn't have to be glad that I still had the ability to move around, to work. In the five years away from Randy, I'd gotten used to these little freedoms. I wanted to remain used to them.

So, with that dark cloud hanging over my head, I made it into work. I stopped short just inside the door, seeing Sami behind the bar prepping for the day. I'd managed to forget about our coffee date during all of my morose musings, but seeing him put it into the forefront of my mind. My heart picked up its pace, and I felt a smile rise to my lips unbidden.

Shit. This was the last goddamn thing I needed, and the only thing I really wanted right now.

As I stood there watching him, he saw me. "No doubles today, right?" He greeted me.

I grinned. "No doubles today," I confirmed.

"Good. So we're still on?"

"We are."

He smiled widely at me. "All right. I'm looking forward to it."

"Me too."

I went about the day in a better state of mind. We were busy enough to keep me mentally occupied, but not so busy that I was run ragged at the end of my shift.

As the minutes ticked down, I found myself growing increasingly nervous. Sami and I had a naturally easy way around each other at work, and I wasn't sure if that would translate well when we were outside of the building.

I went to the back to hang up my apron, my stomach suddenly roiling as I confronted those thoughts. Either way, after today, we could never go back to where we were now. This was going to change everything.

"Are you ready?" Sami asked brightly, untying his own apron.

No. "Sure am." I forced a smile on my face.

"Good. Let's get you caffeinated and see if you make any bad choices."

"You mean besides going out with you?" I teased.

He clutched at his heart, an expression of mock pain on his face for a fleeting moment before he grinned at me. "Yeah, you know – besides that. Maybe I can convince you to jump in the fountain out front of the coffee shop."

I laughed. "So we're headed to the Muddy Cup?"

He offered me his arm. "Is there anywhere else in this town for a good cup of coffee?"

I took his arm, and we made our way out the back door and down the block. We chatted amiably about our day and everything that had transpired during our shift – nothing incredibly interesting, but it was a good jumping off point.

I ordered something pumped full of sugar and cream and a little bit of coffee. Sami insisted on paying. I let him after some consideration.

We chatted a bit, settled at a table outside with a direct view of the aforementioned fountain.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" He asked after a fashion, sitting back in his seat. "I know something's happening; you haven't been yourself the last few weeks."

I met his eyes, studying him for a moment. I knew that telling him was a terrible idea, but the story was just pushing against my soul, pressing the air up out of my lungs and forcing the words out of my mouth against my will.

"I need to leave Rock Creek."

He was visibly taken aback. "What? Why?"

I shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. "It's a long story."

"Yeah, well I've got time and an endless supply of coffee." He pointed back in towards the shop. "So tell me, what's going on?"

I took a deep breath. "You know that guy who came in a few weeks ago?"

"Your ex-boyfriend," he said immediately. "I fucking knew it."

"Knew what?"

"Knew that something was wrong with him," he said dismissively. "Sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt."

I hit a crossroads. I could keep walking down the road that led to the horrific truth, or I could make it pretty.

"He wasn't really nice to me when we were together," I finally spit out. "And when I left, I had to run."

He went completely still, his eyes wide. "Are you serious?"

I nodded, biting my lower lip. "That's why he calls me Cass. When I was with him, I was known as Cassidy Taylor."

Sami's expression darkened. "And now he's found you again, living life as Nicole Almonte."

"Now he's found me," I agreed, taking a sip of my coffee just for something to do.

"We need to go to the police."

I laughed, but my inflection made it sound hollow. "It's not that easy. He's a cop. You know that."

"So?"

"So it's not like regular people. He's...he's smart, Sami. He knows what to do to cover his tracks and make me look like the crazy one. He knows...he knows how to make me _think_ I'm the crazy one. I don't have any other choice; I need to go."

"And when he finds you again?"

"I run. Again."

"And again and again and again," he said flatly. "Jesus, Nic. No wonder you've been a wreck."

I nodded. I didn't know what to say. Sami was the first outsider I'd ever told, however abstractly, about Randy's abuse. Now that the words had left my mouth, I was regretting them. He'd never look at me the same again; he'd always consider me some broken thing that needed to be handled gently. I didn't know how to tell him that wasn't who I was anymore.

"What do you need to be able to leave?"

"I need money. That's why I've been working so much. I can't pay off the rest of my lease with what I've got."

"How much do you need?" He reached into his pocket.

"Sami, no," I protested. "Really. It's all right."

"You can't be stubborn all the time. It took me three years to convince you to go out for coffee, for god's sake. Just tell me how I can help."

I smiled a little, shrugging. "You _are_ helping. It feels good just to be able to say this to someone."

"Yeah, but there's so much more I can do, if you'd let me."

"I know," I nodded. "I'm just...I'm in a really weird spot. I'm kind of...waiting for the other shoe to drop. He showed up, but he hasn't really been bothering me. He says he's changed."

"Because a tiger can change his stripes and all," Sami said, his voice full of vehemence.

I reached across the table without thought and covered his hand with my own, amazed that he seemed more angry than I was. He didn't say anything, but he twined his fingers with mine.

"Just let me handle this for now, ok? I'll let you know if I need help. I promise."

He met my eyes, worrying his tongue over his bottom teeth. "You'd better. I'm going to be keeping an eye on you and making sure you're all right."

I smiled and forced a little laugh. It'd be a nice change to have someone watching me to assure my well-being instead of finding a way to hurt me.

"Well, come on. Let me walk you back to your car."

His mood was darker than I'd ever seen it. I felt guilty for burdening him with the knowledge of my plight. It managed to make the happiest person I'd ever known miserable.

Our walk back was silent, and I found myself wishing I'd never said anything at all. When we reached my car, he surprised me by pulling me into a tight hug.

"Do you need a place to stay tonight?"

I shook my head. "I'm safe at home. Really."

He pulled back to look at me. "You're sure?" I nodded. "You let me know if you change your mind," he said, bending down towards me.

The second before his lips brushed mine, a car horn honked. We both pulled back from each other, startled, and I gave a small, nervous laugh as I nodded towards the taxi waiting out front of the bar.

Sami chuckled. "There's something to be said here about my terrible timing. In everything, it seems."

My smile faded. "I don't think it's your timing. I think it's mine."

He bent and pressed his lips against my forehead. "Believe me, Nic – there's nothing wrong with you. Not one goddamn thing."


	14. Chapter 14

_Randy clenched the steering wheel tightly, trying desperately to keep from screaming._

_He knew it was stupid, and his anger had almost gotten him caught – punching the horn had been pure instinct; no conscious thought went into the action. He just needed to do _something_ to keep his lips off of her._

_He'd regretted it almost immediately after it was done. He was only there to make sure she was safe, not to interfere in her personal life. But still...it was Cass. When it came to her, he couldn't help himself._

_He watched as the other man kissed her forehead, his mouth moving slowly. She smiled up at him, and his heart ached – she'd used to look at him like that, eyes full of adoration. His hand was on the handle of the car door, but he stepped away from her and Randy forced himself to relax._

_He watched the red-haired man watch Cass get into her car. Sami Zayn. He turned the name over in his head, repeating it with increased malice. The guy didn't have any issues that he knew of – by all accounts, he kept his nose clean, no record to speak of. But Randy still didn't like him. It probably had more to do with how he looked at Cass than anything else._

_He dropped his head onto his hands, wondering if it hadn't been a mistake to come here. Kelly had told him that he needed to make amends with his past, he needed to _try_ to get her to see that he'd changed. Sometimes he wondered if he really had, though._

_Sure – he'd never raised his hand to Kelly, but he also didn't love her. He didn't need her to love him. It was a different situation._

_He forced himself to take several deep breaths. He _had_ changed. Before Bob died, he'd explained to his son that he'd needed help. Randy had scoffed, but privately considered everything he'd done to Cass, this woman he loved more than anything. The slaps, the punches, the...rape...he still felt uncomfortable with that, still felt an unhappy twist in his stomach when he thought about how he'd forced himself on her._

_Then there were the lies. The constant lies to try and keep her afraid, to keep her close. He'd even gone so far as to push Dean into believing that he'd murdered someone. Murder. He could never. But he'd let Cass believe he'd done it more than once, and why? Just so she'd stay close and, more importantly, obey him. Fear was the only tool he thought he had._

_Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He'd give anything to take it back._

_He had tried to work through the darkness in his own head, tried so hard to understand what was _wrong_ with him. He went to group, he went to private sessions with Dr. Bancroft, he even tried medication that made him feel like a fucking zombie._

_And then..._he_ arrived. And _he _made Randy feel better. The other things, they had helped in small increments. But _he_ had given Randy a sense of purpose, a home, a family. That was what had really sparked the change. It laid the match to the pile of kindling he'd collected in therapy, and suddenly it had all lit up and he could see so clearly._

_Now he just had to convince Cass. He shook his head sadly. She looked so tired lately, working way too hard and not sleeping nearly enough. He knew that she was trying to leave him again, and he needed to find a way to show her the truth before she did._

_Because if he had to follow her again (and he would, he would follow her across the world if he that's what it took)...it would only frighten her more._

_It had to be _here_ and it had to be _soon_._


	15. Chapter 15

"Cassidy! Hey, Cass!"

Fuck. I didn't want to turn around, but his footsteps were coming up on me quickly. I squared myself and spun to face him, the weight of the world settling back on my shoulders.

I'd been having such a good day. It had only gotten better in the last few hours, and I was wiling away my time daydreaming about Sami as I walked up to my building...at least until his voice had so rudely intruded on my pleasant thoughts.

I waited impatiently for him to catch up to me. He was moving fast, so it didn't take long. He stopped about a foot in front of me and smiled.

"You never called," he chastised.

"I figured you'd find me sooner or later."

"Yeah," he nodded, glancing down. "I just wanted to make sure that the text messages had stopped. You never came in to file a report."

"Yeah, I think I know who that was. Just someone messing around." I still hadn't gotten a hold of Dean, but since he was still in the area and watching me like an asshole I figured he'd show up when he'd had enough time to get over whatever the fuck was bothering him.

"Oh." He actually sounded disappointed. Fucking lunatic. He licked his lips and glanced up at me. "I'm glad to hear that. I was wondering, uh...have you given any thought to sitting down and talking to me yet?"

"No," I answered. "I'm not going to do that. You must understand why."

He nodded. "I do get it. Just...haven't you seen that I'm not as nuts? I'm not following you, I'm not bothering you, I'm just...letting you be. Isn't that worth an hour of your time so we can clear the air?"

"We have nothing to clear," I snapped. "There's no 'clearing' to be had. There's no way I can forgive you or _ever_ believe that you're different. A tiger can't change his stripes." Sami's words, coming out of my mouth. Oh boy.

"I deserve that," he admitted. "Just...do one thing for me. Call Mercy Hospital. Ask to speak to Dr. Sturgess."

I froze. "Why?" I managed to push out through my numb lips.

He blinked a few times, his jaw set in a hard line. "He'll be able to tell you that Peter was alive when they brought him in."

I actually staggered back a few steps, staring at him while the ache in my chest that was always there when it came to Peter sharpened and stabbed at me. "You sick son-of-a-bitch," I finally said in a low voice. "It's not enough for you to _kill my husband_, now you're going out of your way to convince me that you didn't so you can pull me back in? Get away from me."

He shook his head. "I didn't, Cass. I lied to you. I lied to you about a lot of things."

We stood there for a moment, staring at each other.

"Just call," he continued. "Just call and see. If he was dead when they brought him in, you know I'm lying to you now. But if he was alive...isn't it worth maybe sitting down and seeing what I have to say?"

"No," I growled, slowly beginning to back away from him. "I don't care what you have to say, Randy. And you're smart enough to know why."

He took a deep breath. "I'm also smart enough to know that you're getting ready to run. I'd strongly advise against it."

The words hung between us, so strong in the air that I could practically see them.

"And why is that?"

He met my eyes, and I was taken aback when he actually looked saddened. "Because this is your home," he said. "The last thing I wanted to do was to push you out of a place you felt safe. If you decide to sit down and hear me out, and you still want to leave..." He shrugged. "I'll go. I won't give up my job right away, but I'll move out of Rock Creek. I won't come into the restaurant again. You can go back to your regular life, the one you had before I ever showed up."

"How can I believe you?"

"You can't."

I studied him for a long minute. "What do you _want_ from me?"

He closed his eyes, shaking his head. "I want something I know you probably can't give. I just want you to believe that I'm sorry and that I've changed. I know how badly I hurt you, and I can never take that back. I need you to know that it made a difference to me, that it made me better, and that I am so sorry it made you worse." He opened his eyes and met mine. "I realize it's stupid and it's foolish and I'm dumb for even trying...but if I didn't try, I would have to add it to the long list of regrets I have about you. And I just can't put something else on that list. I can't stand the thought of doing that."

I shook my head. "You've tried. You have nothing to regret in that regard. As far as everything else...I hope that list eats at you. I hope it tears your soul apart and you feel the anguish every waking moment for the rest of your life. Because that's what you've done to me, and that's exactly what you deserve to have happen to you."

I turned around and dashed up my steps, shoving my key in the door and flinging it open before leaning back on it immediately to close it. I raced up to my apartment, refusing to look back to see if he was following.

I waited a few minutes once the door was shut and deadbolted behind me to peek out of my window. He was still there, sitting on my steps with his head in his hands. It was a truly pathetic picture, but I couldn't muster any sympathy for him.

I tried to absorb myself in other things, occasionally checking out front to see if he'd gone. By the fourth or so time I checked, he was still there. I decided not to look again.

His words still rang through my aching head. Call Mercy Hospital. Speak with Dr. Sturgess. I knew both of those names so well, too well, from all of my time there myself. I'd been a mess after our accident – a broken kneecap from where I'd hit the dash; two broken ribs; a broken wrist. And, on top of all of the cuts and bruises covering my face and body – a ruptured spleen that had required emergency surgery.

I was more angry that he presumed to know _anything_ about the hospital, _anything_ about the physician that treated us, than I was that he was lying to me about killing Peter.

The thoughts swirled angrily through my head, and I couldn't stand it for another minute. I picked up the phone and dialed the number – after all these years, I still remembered it thanks to battling with my insurance company – and asked for the medical records department.

I asked for a name I'd used so long ago, the woman who had helped me through every request I'd needed to make.

"Mercy Hospital medical records, this is Mary Ann."

"Mary Ann," I tried to smile. "It's Cassidy Taylor."

She was quiet for a minute. "Cassidy, how are you? It's been a long time!"

"I'm well, thanks. It certainly has."

"How can I help you?"

"I actually just had a quick question about my husband, Peter, and his care at the hospital."

"I'll see if I can help," she replied. I could hear the caution in her voice. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking through some old paperwork – finally cleaning out – and I noticed that the EMT's stated that he was still alive when they put him in the ambulance. I always thought that he had passed at the scene of the accident. Is there any way you could tell me if he was still alive when he was admitted?"

She went quiet again, and I bit my lip. "Cassidy, can I ask why you want to know?"

I sighed. "I know, it's really stupid. It's just...the anniversary of our accident is coming up, and this has been eating at me. I feel like if I knew, one way or the other, if he passed away out on there or in the hospital... I'd just feel better knowing he didn't die on that road."

I didn't have to fake the hurt in my voice. After all this time, it still stung. My grief hadn't faded.

Mary Ann was still quiet, but I heard the clacking of a keyboard. "All right," she said gently. "I have it here – Peter was alive when they brought him in. He expired about fifteen minutes after his admission."

I closed my eyes. Holy shit.

I forced myself to exhale a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "Oh Mary Ann, thank you."

"Happy I could help. Take care of yourself, Cass."

I said my goodbyes and hung up before sinking into one of the chairs at my kitchen table. I buried my head in my arms and I sobbed.

For the last five years, I'd had someone else to blame for his death. I didn't have to blame Pete any longer, and I didn't have to be angry with him for being so stupid. In a matter of seconds, all of that had washed away.

I had no one to blame but him. And goddamn, I'd forgotten how hard it was to be so angry with someone you loved so desperately.

After those feelings had crept back in and settled on me, I had the other startling realization that Randy hadn't lied to me downstairs.

Of course, it could all be a ploy. It could all be another trick, telling me he'd lied about that one thing to make me think he was honest.

Against my will, I looked outside to see that he was still sitting on my steps. I debated fiercely for several seconds before I cursed out loud and grabbed my jacket.


	16. Chapter 16

Defeated, I sat down beside him and wrapped my arms around myself. He glanced over at me, the surprise apparent on his face.

"What else," I asked, "did you lie to me about?"

He bit his lower lip. "Well, the biggest lies...I never killed anyone. Billy, that was how it looked – robbery that went wrong. We ended up catching the guys a few months after you left."

"The woman in the woods?"

He shook his head. "It was a stupid prank to scare Dean. She was in on it. After Dean stormed off upstairs, I took her outside, paid her, and sent her on her way. She's fine; actually has a husband and a couple of kids last I knew."

I rubbed my hand over my forehead. This was just way too much. Everything I'd believed about Randy had been turned on its head in the span of...what, an hour? Beliefs that I'd held for years were being shattered. It was very disorienting.

I hugged myself tighter, trying to both shut out the cold and hold in my fear and confusion.

"I made a lot of mistakes, Cass. I know that. I lied to you a million times about a million things. I wasn't right in the head."

"Do you think that makes it right?"

"No. Nothing I do can make it right. But I'd really like to try, if you're willing to let me."

I sighed. "This is...a lot," I said. I shook my head, my brow furrowed as my brain tried to process these enormous revelations.

"Yeah," he agreed.

I glanced over at him. "So why now? What changed?"

"The short version? I got help."

"How?"

The right side of his mouth curled up in a half-smile. "That's a much longer story, and it's way too cold out here to do it justice."

I fell silent, absently chewing on my lower lip. I wanted to hear this longer story. I wanted to know what had made him come and confess to me after all this time...but I also realized that I could be falling into a very dangerous situation.

"Give me the longer short version, then," I said. If he actually had a longer short version, it might be worth exploring further.

He sighed, his brow furrowing. "Longer short version. Uh...all right. Realized that I'd been a total idiot. That wasn't easy. Therapy – group and individual. Helped a bit. Then..." he shrugged. "Really, the thing that helped the most was..." He laughed. "Christ, I can't shorten this part. Let's say religion. It's much more complicated than that, though." He glanced over at me. "You look half-frozen."

I shook my head. "I got used to the weather up here. This is nothing compared to the winter we just had."

"Still...you should get back inside."

"If I go, are you finally going to leave?"

He nodded. "I think I will. I feel...better. Lighter, in a way. Now that you know the truth."

I snorted. "I wish I did."

After a few awkward seconds of silence, his hand covered my shoulder. "I'm sorry."

I shook my head. "Forget it. I'll be fine. I just need some time."

"I won't forget it...because hopefully it's the last time I ever hurt you." He squeezed my shoulder. "Take all the time you need, but I hope you know...if you need to talk to me, I'm not going to turn you away."

I looked over at him. He was staring at me with such sincerity. "I know."

He managed to smile at me before moving his hand to trail his fingers over my face. "I'm so sorry. For everything."

I swallowed hard, glancing away. My heart was racing, and I was suddenly entirely uncomfortable with how I was feeling...which wasn't all that uncomfortable at all.

"I should get back inside," I managed to spit out, pushing myself to my feet.

He nodded, hauling himself up as well. I noticed that he didn't move as easily as he used to; grunting as he got his feet back under him. "Thanks for talking to me."

"Thanks for telling me the truth. I think."

I turned and climbed the few stairs to my front door, putting my key in the lock.

"Cass?"

I glanced over my shoulder. "Yeah?"

"You will call me, right? When you're ready to talk about this?" The fear was apparent in his voice.

I hesitated, my fingers tapping on the doorknob. I wanted to say no. I wanted to say yes. I just didn't know how I was feeling, when it came right down to it.

"I can't promise anything," I decided to say after a few minutes. "I really just need time."

He nodded. "Take all the time you need. Just...when you decide, one way or another, let me know, all right? If you want to talk more, I want to make that happen immediately. And if you don't, I just...I want to know so I can let you go."

"But will you?"

He stared at me for a minute before sighing. "Not really. But I'll leave you alone. I promise that much."

I worked my jaw back and forth for a moment, contemplating. "Then I'll call you when I know. One way or the other."

I turned back to the door and unlocked it, stepping my way inside without looking back. The door clicked shut behind me, and I tried to let it shut out the chaos and confusion in my head along with it.

It didn't work.

I thought it over while I slowly wandered up the stairs to my apartment.

So he might not be the complete monster that I'd thought. So what? He'd still done awful things. Unforgivable things. He'd beaten me down – physically, mentally, and emotionally – to the point where I was only a shell of a human being.

At least, I had been a shell. I'd regained some of myself; I'd managed to rebuild the remaining little scraps of my soul into something that allowed me to continue living. It wasn't perfect, but it was what I had.

Which led me to the troubling thought...if I had survived, if I had managed to piece myself together...did that mean that Randy could have done the same thing?

I was nearly sick at the thought. I didn't know. I didn't want to know.

Well. That was that, then. I'd wait a few days before I called him. If he was sincere, this whole thing would be behind me. Maybe I could really start a new life then.

It shouldn't be surprising to know that I didn't sleep well that night. It seemed so simple, so black-and-white...but it still felt wrong. I thought it might be a remnant of my time with Randy. Questioning him, refusing him, had always been a dangerous proposition. It was difficult to change that instinct in me, even after all this time.

I dragged myself into work, exhausted and distracted by the thoughts constantly swirling in my head.

I was managing all right until about two that afternoon. It was an hour before my shift ended, and I was nearly dead on my feet when they walked in.

They were a group of three big men that I'd never seen before. The tall, chubby one up front wore white pants, a Hawaiian shirt, and a straw hat – not exactly the outfit of your typical Oregon resident – and had a gigantic black beard. The two behind him were even taller than he was; the one on the right had bushy black hair and a rather impressive beard, while the one on the left was bald with a long red beard.

I tried to shake myself out of it. We got all types of folks in here; their money was just as good as anyone else's.

"Hi there," I greeted them, grabbing menus. "Three today?"

The man upfront smiled. "Yes, please," he said. His voice surprised me. It was deep, raspy, and decidedly Southern. But his voice didn't surprise me as much as his next few words. "It's such a pleasure to finally meet you, Cassidy."


	17. Chapter 17

I froze. He simply smiled at me.

"I-I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Not directly, no. We do have a few...mutual acquaintances." His voice was oddly hypnotic and soothing, his blue eyes sparkling as he stared at me.

"She's pretty," his black-haired companion stated boldly. He stared at me, his brown eyes flat. It was unnerving.

"Luke," the other man said, his tone one of gentle admonishment. "Be nice."

"She is," Luke muttered.

The man closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the behavior of a man whose patience was running thin.

"Please allow me to introduce myself," he said, opening his eyes and staring at me. "I'm Bray Wyatt."

I felt an uncomfortable tingle at the base of my spine, though I couldn't precisely pinpoint why. The way he spoke, with such authority...it was as if he expected a reaction; expected me to know who he was.

And here I was, behind the curve yet again. The story had progressed and I was still trying to catch up.

"Let me take you to a table."

I returned to my default setting. I slipped back into being a waitress and tried to ignore the miasma of weirdness surrounding me. Difficult, in the presence of these three. Still, I managed well enough while taking their drink orders – even though two out of the three men were staring holes into me.

The man who called himself Bray ordered for the other two. When I went to put their orders in, my hands and knees were shaking. The whole thing was unsettling.

"It strikes me," Bray said as I returned, trying desperately to keep my hands steady. "You may not understand quite who I am. Is that true?"

His eyes bored into mine, and under such scrutiny I couldn't do a damn thing but tell the truth.

"Yes," I admitted.

He smiled, chuckling. "Ah. You must forgive me; you see, I was under the impression that you had an enlightening conversation with a friend of mine. I assumed, of course, that he must have mentioned me."

The light bulb in my head clicked on. "Randy?" I asked, uncertain.

Bray's eyes lit up. "Yes!"

Oh God. Oh God no. "You're not part of his...religion?" I guessed, licking my lips.

Bray's smile faltered. "Is that what he called us? How...interesting. I suppose, in a sense, that he's correct."

"He did say that it was more complicated." For whatever reason, I didn't want to upset this man. It was completely irrational, because I didn't know him from anybody...but I could feel his disappointment wash over me, and I wanted to do anything in my power to stop it. "We didn't have much time to speak. He promised to explain it better when we had time."

His smile returned in full force. "Well, there's no need for him to explain," he chuckled. "You can come see us for yourself."

"Yeah yeah yeah," Luke piped up. "Come see."

I glanced over at him, meeting his flat brown eyes again. He grinned widely at me in response. It was disconcerting.

"In fact," Bray continued, as if Luke had never spoken, "we'll be meeting tonight. You're more than welcome to join us."

"Oh...thank you," I managed to say. "I'll see what I can do."

"How wonderful," he said, holding that same, eerie smile. "I do hope we'll see you."

I nodded, attempting to tear my eyes away from his. "Now what can I get y'all to eat?" I stared down at my pad, attempting to breathe normally and keep the flush from my cheeks.

Bray ordered for all three of them – pretty standard fare, actually. I wasn't sure what I was expecting; it's not like we carried...crocodile or squirrel or whatever else I had expected them to eat.

After I put the order in, I hung back from them and watched the clock, counting down the minutes until I could leave. I fervently hoped that I could avoid going back to their table. Bray seemed to sense my discomfort and kept his attention focused on his companions. I heard him chastise Luke for looking in my direction a few times. Each time, Luke's head would snap back to Bray...but eventually, he'd gradually begin turning back in my direction.

Their food came out fifteen minutes before my shift ended. I dropped it off wordlessly, picking up glasses to get them a round of refills.

"Is there anything else I can get you?" I asked, resolutely avoiding everyone's eyes as I dropped the drinks back off.

"No," Bray answered. "We're just fine, Cass."

I froze for a brief moment. Hearing this man say my name still made me feel all...squicky. "All right then," I forced a smile on my face. "I'll be headed home then, but Katie will be sure to take good care of y'all. Thanks for coming in."

"Thank _you_," he replied. "It was truly a pleasure to meet you today. I hope we see you this evening. Do you know where to find us?"

Goddamnit. "No," I replied, my smile becoming tight. "Where would that be?"

Another smile stretched across his face. "I know that you'd like to be on your way. Why don't you just give Randy a call? I'm sure he'd...jump...at the chance to come and retrieve you."

I nodded. "I'll do that," I lied. I wasn't going to go out to some weird-ass tent revival to find out what this man considered religion in the _first_ place, but needing to call Randy to come drive me to some unknown location? No fucking way.

I was beyond grateful to walk out the door. I tried to leave everything behind, but the weirdness seemed to follow me. I was on-edge the whole way home, and even for the first hour that I was safely locked in my apartment. I showered, trying to push everything out of my head. That didn't work, so I paced vigorously across my living room.

I finally began to calm down, shaking off my uneasiness. As I settled myself in for the night, I began turning everything over in my head. It had been one of the strangest twenty-four hour periods in my life, between a date with Sami that felt like it was years ago to finding out that Randy hadn't killed my husband to...whatever the hell _those_ guys were.

I didn't know entirely what to make of it all. I was torn; on the one hand, I was wildly curious about Randy's supposed life-altering experience...but on the other hand, I knew that I should forget my curiosity and just run like hell.

I fell asleep with these two possible courses of action swirling in my head.

I wasn't sure what woke me up at first, and then I heard my door buzzer again.

I rolled over and glanced at the clock – eight in the morning. At least I'd managed to sleep through the night.

I hauled myself out of bed and pressed the intercom button. "Who is it?" I asked, yawning widely. I pressed the button to listen to my visitor's response.

"A man," a voice that sent a nasty shiver of fear down my spine, "who is...very disappointed that you didn't keep your word."

I took my finger off the button, my hands flying up to my mouth in horror as I slowly backed away from the speaker on the wall.

"Come on down, Cassidy," his voice somehow came through my intercom, even though I wasn't touching the button. "Come on down here and explain yourself."

I could feel the tears filling my eyes and I shook my head vehemently at the idea.

"I'm not going to hurt you, sweet child," his voice continued, the anger bleeding out of it and being replaced by a sweet cajoling quality. "I know your fear. I know your pain. I only want to help. Come. Let me help you."

My feet started to move towards the door.

"That's it," he said, his voice gleeful. "Come and see me. Come to me and be saved."

Looking back, I could never explain...any of it. All I knew was that, against my conscious will, I clambered down the stairs in my pajamas and opened the door for a smiling, chuckling Bray Wyatt.


	18. Chapter 18

"So tell me, Cassidy," he said, setting down his coffee cup on my kitchen table. "Why didn't you come last night?"

I glanced down at my own cup, rolling it back and forth between my hands. I'd invited him up and made him coffee, and now we were sitting here discussing my reluctance to explore a new religion like two relatively normal human beings.

I blamed myself. I'd thought the weirdness was drawing to a close. Obviously, that was a foolish thought to have.

I shrugged. "It just...seemed wrong to me."

"What about it seemed wrong?"

He didn't sound angry. He seemed curious more than anything, almost like all he really wanted was to help me and I was preventing that.

"I didn't like the idea of Randy bringing me to a place I didn't know," I admitted.

Bray laughed, as I noticed he tended to do frequently. "Ah. So when he said he had a discussion with you, he didn't tell you nearly enough." I glanced up to see him shaking his head. "You have nothing to fear from Randy. Do you believe me?"

I stared at him, trying to gauge his sincerity. "I don't know," I admitted.

He sighed. "Child, you are so...broken. It's a real shame." He brought his cup up to his lips and stared at me over the rim. "Fortunately for you, I specialize in fixing broken things."

"Who says I need to be fixed?" My tone was defensive. "I happen to think I'm doing just fine."

His brow furrowed and he studied me intently, as if he was looking directly into my soul. After a few seemingly endless moments, he shook his head again. "Don't lie to me. That's the one thing I'll ask of you for now. Just don't lie."

I swallowed hard. His voice had crept back towards anger, and I could feel my fingers clench around my mug.

"It's been hard for you," he continued, his voice smoothing out. "Randy's told me...everything." His lips turned down, and he shook his head again. "All of the pain he dealt you, all of the lies and the life of fear he created for you. It's amazing that you are still standing. It takes a special kind of person to survive that anguish, and it's to be expected that you are...incomplete."

He leaned forward, his eyes boring into mine. "But you don't have to be. Do you understand? There is a better way."

I could feel my heart leap up. I wanted a better way, God, I didn't want to be afraid anymore. I felt like he could sense my hope; his face lit up.

"Come with me. I promise, there is nothing for you to fear. Not any longer."

I hesitated. "What about Randy?"

"He's at work. You won't come across him unless you want. Come meet my family. I think you'll find...very like-minded individuals."

My brain whirred wildly, trying to come up with a reason not to go. My instincts told me that I shouldn't leave with this man, but they were clouded by all of the wonderful notions about a cure for the pain, a cure for my brokenness. It was something I would never admit out loud, but that was what I had been chasing all this time.

And what if – just _what if_ – he happened to have it? Could I pass it up? Could I turn it away?

"Come on now," Bray said, sounding amused. "I know your heart. I know how...desperately...you crave a remedy. I'm offering you one."

I shook my head. "I don't know you. Every instinct I have is telling me to run."

His smile faltered, but remained on his face. "And yet, my dear sweet one, you're not. Why do you think that is?"

I looked away. "Could it be," he continued, "that you believe I might deliver what I'm promising?" He chuckled. "It's so easy to stay broken. It requires...no effort on your part. You simply wallow in your agony; you pull it on like armor to shield you from the horrors of this world. But even the strongest armor has cracks, and it will only protect you for so long. I can show you how to live without armor. I can show you how to be...strong."

I swung my eyes to him, feeling the heat of anger rise in my chest. "You don't think I'm strong now?"

He shook his head. "No. If you were, you wouldn't cower in fear from a man who offers you a chance to heal."

I stood up, kicking my chair back, and slammed my hands down on the table. "Let me explain this to you," I hissed, leaning towards him. "I don't know you. The only thing I know is that you're a friend to a man who nearly killed me – more than once – and a man I'm not certain _still_ doesn't want to kill me. Yet you want me to follow you to some undisclosed location so you can supposedly try to _fix_ me? You don't see any sort of problem with this?"

He studied me for a moment, tilting his head. "No," he answered. "I see no problem."

I froze, incredulous. And then...I just started laughing. "Unbelievable," I muttered, the air flying out of my balloon. I shrank back into my seat and put my head on my hands.

"You're wasting precious time, Cassidy. I don't know how else to explain this to you. You require fixing, and I know how to do such a thing."

I looked up at him again. "Why do you care?"

He chuckled. "Ah...now, that is an interesting question. Randy is...very important to me, and to my family. You're the last piece of his puzzle – without you, he remains...incomplete. I need him whole, and I need him healthy."

I shook my head, a bitter laugh slipping through my lips. "So it's not about me at all. It's about Randy...like it always is."

"Don't misunderstand me, darling. I need you, yes – but it doesn't mean that I don't have a desire to help you as well. As I've said, I specialize in broken things. Had I come across you without Randy, I would still offer you the same – a chance to change your fortunes. Now, granted, I may not be as...persistent...in that situation, but my offer would still be tendered. Would you have accepted it under such circumstances?"

I wanted to lie and tell him I wouldn't have even considered it, but he seemed to know my heart better than I did. Remaining silent seemed my best option.

"Haven't you had enough? Don't you owe it to yourself to at least...try?"

I closed my eyes, feeling a quiet sort of resignation sweep over me. He wouldn't relent. No matter what I did, I would always end up here – waiting for the moment when he would stop asking and would just take. And I doubted that he would be terribly nice about it when it finally happened.

"Fine," I snapped. "After all, what are you going to do to me? Kill me. Fine."

He stood up and offered me his hand. "I cannot kill what is already dead. I'm going to do something infinitely more difficult...I'm going to bring you to life."


	19. Chapter 19

_It had been one long day._

_Randy rested his head on his hands, which were clenched around the steering wheel. After taking a deep breath, he sat up and looked at the house._

_It was coming along, he thought. It'd just been this big old rambling farmhouse out in the middle of nowhere when he'd found it. Now, after pulling some weeds and replacing a few busted windows, it looked almost respectable. If you could ignore the peeling paint and the spots in the roof that looked like they might cave in._

_He added that to his mental to-do list. Call around for a roofer, get some estimates. The paint he could do himself, if he ever found a spare moment._

_He realized he couldn't stall any longer. Pulling his keys out of the ignition, he climbed out of the truck and tried to ignore the sudden twinge of protest in his back. Damn, he was getting old. Living had never hurt so much, but now that he was nearing forty it seemed he woke up with a new complaining body part every day._

_He stepped in through the front door and hung his keys on the hook he'd put up after being sick of misplacing his things._

_He could hear Bray talking down the hall, his voice rising and falling in a gentle rhythm as it always seemed to when there was a new recruit around. A small smile rose on his lips. He could listen to Bray talk for hours, and often did just that. The man had a compelling way of viewing the world._

_He debated on interrupting them for a moment, introducing himself, before he thought better of it and climbed the stairs instead. He peeked into Kelly's room on the way to his own – she was asleep, her mouth hanging open. He watched to make sure her chest was still rising and falling before continuing on his way._

_She looked worse every day, wasting away and becoming smaller and smaller on the big bed. She refused to let him coddle her, though. In fact, it was often a fight to keep her in her room. He shook his head, grinning as best he could through his sorrow._

_She wasn't long for this world, and that thought scared him._

_She had brought him to Bray; she had shown him that there was a better life waiting for him. When she left, when her soul finally flew this stinking spinning rock, would he be able to hold on? Would he be able to stay on the path she had shown him?_

_He didn't know. He could admit that to himself in his more private moments, but he'd never admit that to her. She had enough to worry about._

_He changed out of his suit and threw on a ratty pair of jeans and a t-shirt that had seen better days. The sun was still up; he thought he might start scraping down some of that paint. It would take his mind off things._

_Clambering back down the stairs, he'd nearly reached the front door when Bray called to him from the back of the house._

"_Randy? Is that you? Come on back and say hello."_

_He hesitated a moment before changing course and heading back towards his voice. Might as well get this over with; the new person would see him much messier as time went on. Work around this place never seemed to end._

_He pushed a smile up on his lips as he entered the room, never expecting to be hit directly in the solar plexus._

She_ was here, perched on the couch while Bray sat in the rocking chair in front of her. As he watched, stunned, she tucked her hair behind her ear – a nervous tick he'd seen her do a million times in a different life._

"_Hey, Ran," she greeted him, trying to smile. He could see her hands shaking in her lap, and all he wanted to do was run to her and steady them – smooth her hair out of her face, tell her that it was ok now that she'd come to them._

_Instead, he smiled. "Well hey, Cass. Glad to see you made it after all."_


	20. Chapter 20

"The nature of man," Bray intoned, "is...inherently evil. We all know this. We all know our own hearts and minds, and it's a great disservice...a great lie...to tell ourselves anything else."

This was a new kind of knowledge for me, but everyone else seemed to accept this – as if it had been discussed many times before.

"This so-called 'modern' world loves to put shiny gloss over the ugly truth, loves to varnish the surface of the wood to make it look beautiful – when deep down, it's only covering a rotten, festering core."

He paused in his pacing and glanced up at the small group of people that had gathered. "We know the truth," he said quietly. You could almost feel the congregation stop breathing as they hung on his every word. "We know the truth of this world and its ugly ways, and we WILL NO LONGER be TAINTED by their LIES."

A few people murmured in agreement. I glanced across the barn – yes, this meeting was being held in an old barn – to see Randy staring at Bray with rapt attention.

"How can we, the select few, combat their willful ignorance? How can we...bring them to the truth? Hmm?" He spread his arms and allowed his eyes to circle the room, at some point meeting the gaze of every person there. He stopped on mine.

After a brief moment, he smiled and chuckled. "How, brothers and sisters?" He dropped his arms. "We lead by example. No longer do we follow the sheep. No longer do we wait, herded like cattle to our imminent death at the hands of the great liars."

The murmurs of agreement grew louder.

"We will open their eyes – we will FORCE their eyes open if we have to. And when the revolution comes – and make no mistake, brothers and sisters, it will come – we will leave a trail of blood leading to the broken bodies of the sheep who knew no better; the sheep who chose to believe the pretty lie over the ugly truth."

This was getting too weird for me. I could stand the farm – although I'd regarded the woods surrounding the open fields with great distaste and more than a little suspicion – and its inhabitants. They'd been, for the most part, kind and quiet. The few that were here before Bray's 'meeting' had been working in the garden, working in the kitchen, working out here in the barn. It just seemed like a hippie commune of workers.

This, though...

I stood up quietly from the bench and made my way towards the back of the barn, taking care to stick close to the wall instead of the center aisle. I didn't want to draw any more attention to myself.

I stepped outside and took a deep breath, wrapping my arms around myself. There was still a bite of cold in the air, as it seemed like there always was in Oregon. I glanced up at the sky, surprised to see that twilight had long gone and night had fallen.

How long had I been in that barn?

"Everything ok?"

I turned back, unsurprised to see Randy a few steps behind me, hands shoved in his pockets.

"Yeah," I lied. "I just needed some air."

He nodded. "I know it's a lot to take in."

I couldn't help but laugh. A lot to take in, huh? More like a lot of crazy to push out. "I guess so."

"I can take you home. If you want."

Truthfully, that was all I'd wanted to do since the hour before he'd come home. Bray was no fool, though. He told me that the only person available was Luke, who had taken to staring at me and grinning widely, although his eyes remained lifeless.

No. Thank. You.

I nodded back towards the barn. "Will he be upset?"

Randy shook his head. "Nah. A lot of people have trouble with what he's saying at first. They're...life-changing ideas. We can't expect people to adopt them immediately. Honestly, I'd be suspicious of anyone who did." He paused a minute before nodding towards the house. "Truck's out front. I can take you now, if you'd like."

"That'd be great," I agreed, albeit reluctantly. I realized that on some level Bray had wanted to push us together, and I wasn't going to get a better offer. Besides, I'd survived it this long; I was sure I could survive another half-hour.

We both began to walk around the house towards the front, leaving the rising and falling of Bray's preaching behind us. Randy ducked inside to grab his keys, and we were soon settled in the truck and bouncing down the dirt road.

"Where was Kelly tonight?" I finally asked, just to break the silence. "Does she hold different beliefs?"

He glanced over at me, obviously surprised. "Uh, no. No, she's actually the one who introduced me to Bray. She's not feeling well lately, so she stayed in bed."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I lied. I didn't really give a hoot about his wife; it was just the appropriate thing to say. "Seems like everyone gets sick as winter ends up here. Must be something in the air."

He was quiet for a minute. "She's...she's actually been sick for a long time."

I turned towards him, confused. "She looked fine," I blurt out before I could think about how rude I was being.

He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "If you had known her before, you would've seen how thin she'd gotten. Wigs and make-up also seem to hide a lot of sins, but she's not feeling up to the effort most days."

My heart sank. "What is it?" I asked, almost reluctantly.

"Ovarian cancer. Stage four." I could see his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. "This last round of chemo has been hard on her. It's kind of her last-ditch effort, but between you and me...I don't think it's working."

I was quiet for a minute, not knowing what to say. "I'm so sorry," I finally settled on, actually feeling a pang for him. It couldn't be easy. "Is there anything I can do?"

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid mouth.

He shook his head. "No. We're managing all right. She's stubborn, though." He laughed. "Refuses to let me help her; insists on taking care of herself. It's a miracle she even let me marry her in the first place."

I hesitated. God, my curiosity was burning but I wasn't sure I should ask. Eventually, it won out.

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "She needed health insurance. I have great benefits. It took the first two hospital bills coming out of her pocket before she agreed. I think Bray talked her into it, thankfully. Otherwise, she would've just grit her teeth and tried to ride it out. At least this way...at least she's comfortable enough."

I bit my lower lip. I didn't know what to say. I stared ahead at the road, watching the headlights bounce along the uneven ground.

"Now, my turn," he said. "Do you think you'll come back?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. That was...a very strange experience."

He laughed. "Yes. Bray's a strange guy."

I glanced over at him. "But this all helped you?"

He nodded. "The idea that we're all inherently evil...it sounds weird, but it made me feel like I wasn't some crazy anomaly. And if other people could control it, so could I. It's not easy. I still have one hell of a temper. But I'm forcing myself to be honest about it now."

"That's a good thing. I think."

He laughed. "It is. Really." He paused. "I think the best thing about Bray is that he lets us take what we need and leave the rest. He doesn't demand that we live up to some moral code; we just do what we think is right. He considers us all family, no matter what. Tonight, he was just on a bit of a tangent. I think he's gotten fed up with the outside world."

"Who hasn't?" I replied dryly.

I could see him smile out of the corner of my eye. "Exactly. He's talked more and more about separating ourselves from the world. I can see the merit in the idea."

That rung a small bell in my brain. Wasn't that what I'd been doing before Randy had shown up? Sure, I went out and about into the world...but I kept to myself. I lived in my own universe. Maybe that's just what Bray was doing, on a grander scale.

"Just give it some thought. You can come and go as you please. He won't chase you down, although he might ask at least once more for you to swing by."

I nodded. "I will," I assured him.

We were finally turning onto a paved road that would lead us back to civilization. The ride became much smoother after that.

"This is really nice," he said after a few minutes. "Talking to you, I mean. I've really missed that."

"Can't you talk to Bray?"

He laughed. "You'll find that Bray usually does most of the talking. Just the way he is." He paused. "How about you? Who do you talk to?"

I cracked a smile. "Usually myself," I admitted. "I tend to prefer being alone these days."

"I know how that is. That's how I wanted to be, too. Until I met Kelly again and all of this just kind of...happened." He glanced over at me. "I'm sorry if this comes out wrong, but I hope the same thing happens for you. I just...I want you to be happy, Cass. And I think you could be happy with us. I think we could help."

I hung my head and bit my tongue. I wanted to lash out at him and remind him that _he_ was the reason I wasn't happy, but even I knew I was lying to myself. I hadn't been happy since Pete died. Before that, even. An alcoholic husband is never easy to live with, no matter how much you might love him.

"I want that, too," I admitted after a few long minutes. I actually heard him exhale and wondered why he was so scared. "I just need to find my own way to do that."

He nodded. "As long as you find a way, pretty lady. Life is so short; too short to waste on misery."

We were pulling onto my street. I felt an odd mixture of relief and reluctance. I liked talking to him. It was nice being able to be so honest with someone after years of lying about everything...including my own name.

He stopped in front of my building. "Back home again, all in one day," he said, his lips curling up slightly. "It was good to see you."

I nodded, unbuckling my seat belt. "It was good to see you, too." For the first time in a long time, I wasn't lying. After a brief second, I reached for the door handle and swung it open, hopping out onto the pavement. "See you around."

"See you."

I walked around the truck to get to my door, only to hear his window roll down as I reached the sidewalk. "Hey, Cass?"

I turned back. "Yeah?"

He bit his lip. "You wouldn't...I mean, would you want to..." He took a breath. "Can I take you out to dinner some night?"

I froze for a brief second.

"Forget it," he said, shaking his head, his cheeks turning red. "I'm sorry. That was really stupid."

"I'll call you," I interrupted him.

He glanced up, his brow furrowed. I swallowed hard. "Once I get my schedule for the week. I'll call you."

He tried really hard to keep himself from smiling, and he failed miserably. "Sounds great," he said, the relief apparent in his voice. "I'll look forward to hearing from you."

I nodded, forcing a small smile on my lips. "Good night."

"Night."

He watched as I walked towards my door, finally driving off after I was safely inside. I slumped against the wall, wondering just what in the blue hell was wrong with me...and wondering why I didn't care more what the answer to that question might be.


	21. Chapter 21

"Hey, Nic, wait up!"

I turned to see Sami jogging towards me. I slowed my approach towards the restaurant and mustered a smile for him.

"Hey, how's it going?"

"It's going," he replied, his pace slowing as he drew closer to me. "Have a good day off?"

"Uh, yeah," I said after some contemplation. "Was it crazy here yesterday?"

He shrugged. "Not too bad. Steady at least." He paused to open the door for me. "So why aren't you too sure that your day off was good?" He teased.

I forced myself to laugh. "It's kind of a long story. But at the end of the day, everything was all right."

He grinned. "You'll have to tell me about it when we have a free minute."

"If we have a free minute," I agreed. "Not likely on a Friday."

"We can always go out for coffee again."

When I laughed this time, it was genuine. "I'll have to check my schedule."

He put a hand lightly on my back. "Well, let me know when you can pencil me in. I want to hear all about your adventures."

As inane as that statement was, it stuck with me throughout my afternoon. What was I going to tell him? What could I possibly say that wouldn't sound completely insane?

I finally came to the realization that there really wasn't a great way to spin this. My best bet would be to avoid this conversation, but I didn't think that was entirely possible either.

In some small way, I wanted confirmation that I wasn't as crazy as I felt. I realized that telling Sami probably wasn't going to lead to him reassuring me, but maybe if I spoke the words out loud I'd find some way to come to peace with everything I'd experienced.

I still wasn't sure what was going on inside my own head, and that scared me. I knew that I should stay away from Randy, but at the same time...I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I sensed the change in him. And yes, I thought Bray's discussion yesterday was hokey and a little frightening...but if it had changed Randy, a man I thought was beyond help, wasn't it worth exploring further?

I just didn't know. My logical self was at odds with my emotional self, at least partially. I was still wracked with fear, but a growing part of me wanted to hope that I had a reason not to be afraid any longer...and hope is one of the greatest motivators there is. Why else would people constantly push towards their goals? Because they were afraid not to? No. Because they hoped it would change their circumstances. They wanted their accomplishments to change their lives.

If ever anyone was in need of a life change...it was me. I was tired of living in fear. No. I was tired of not living at all _because_ of my fear. I had been that way since Pete died, too scared to come out of my own head. It had only gotten worse after I'd run from Randy.

I was a thirty-three year-old woman with the wrecked emotions of a seventy-year-old widower and the life experience of a teenager. Neither of those things were what I wanted to be.

Maybe this...whatever the fuck it was, I guessed philosophy was the best word...could help me with that. Maybe I owed it to myself to try it again, with less fear and more of an open mind.

When my shift was over, I managed to duck out before Sami caught me. I was too entangled in my own thoughts to be good company to anyone, much less someone I had some confusing feelings for and would need to explain all of this to.

I was surprised – but not – when Randy's truck was parked next to my car. He hopped out when he saw me coming.

"Hey pretty lady," he greeted me, smiling. "How you doing?"

"Hey," I replied. "I'm all right. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

I think he caught the tone in my voice. He backed down the friendliness a bit. "We're having a little something out at the house tonight. I was asked to invite you."

I laughed humorlessly. "Let me guess...Luke."

His smile widened the slightest bit. "I promise, he's harmless. Bray says he's got a little bit of a hero worship thing going on for me. That apparently extends to a fascination with you." He paused. "Kelly actually asked me if you'd be coming."

I blinked, surprised. "Is she feeling better?"

He shrugged, attempting to be casual – but I could see the worry in his eyes. "She says she's fine. She wanted to meet you under better circumstances, I think. At least once, before..." He trailed off. He didn't need to finish.

I glanced down at my clothes. "The one problem is that I smell like a deep fryer."

"I could follow you home if you want. Let you get cleaned up, then take you out. It might be better that way – you could pack a bag if you wanted, stay there for the night." He saw my expression change. "We have a spare room with a proper bed and everything. And a lock on the door. The inside part of it, even."

I tried to suppress my smile and couldn't. "Very satisfying accommodations."

"I figured you'd appreciate the change in my previous method of treating guests."

I laughed. What else could I do? After a moment, I shook my head. I wanted to say no, but my curiosity – and the realization that we really were working with a limited timetable – reared its ugly head.

"Meet me at my place," I said. "I won't take long."

He gave me a salute and got back in the truck, waiting to make sure I was safely in my car before pulling out of the parking lot.

I tried not to think too hard about what I was doing while I drove. I focused instead on what I was going to do to get ready. I knew that I didn't want to stay the night, regardless of what Randy said about the available room. I just wanted to know why Kelly was so interested in speaking with me...and, admittedly, I was very interested in speaking with her.

When we made it to my building, I brought Randy up and had him wait in the living room while I showered and dressed in clean clothes. I popped back into my living room to see him wandering around, studying the few small things I had strewn around in an approximation of decoration.

He smiled at me when he saw me. "Feel better?"

"What does she want?" I blurted. "With me, I mean."

He seemed taken aback. "Are you scared?"

I nodded, and his shoulders fell a bit. "Babe, you have nothing to be afraid of. Kelly's just curious about you. I...well, I talk about you a lot, to be honest. I pass on any woman who shows interest. After five years, you're kind of a mythical figure to everyone. I think they don't actually believe you exist," he laughed.

"What happened with her and Dean?"

His eyes darkened. "That's not my story to tell. I will tell you that it wasn't good, and that it was hard on everyone involved. Otherwise, it's something she should tell you."

I took a deep breath. "Am I crazy?"

His face fell. "Why would you ask that?"

I shook my head, swallowing hard. "I know...I know I should be running from you. This is the dumbest thing I've ever done, and I've done a lot of really dumb things. I know that staying is stupid, but at the same time I don't want to run. I'm tired of being afraid all the time."

"Cass," he said, sighing. "I am so sorry. I don't know why I expect you to believe everything's going to be fine when I haven't put any work in. You have no reason to trust me. What can I do to change that?"

I shrugged. "I really don't know. I don't know what the answer is. I'm all messed up; it seems like I'm always all messed up." Tears were filling my eyes. How embarrassing.

Randy took several steps towards me and pulled me into his arms. It was the first time he'd touched me in five years, and it was uncomfortable at first. As the seconds ticked by, though, I found myself relaxing.

After all this time, there was still something familiar about him. My hands crept up and I wrapped my arms back around him. I felt more than heard his exhalation of what I presumed was relief.

"I promise," his voice rumbled in his chest, "that my days of hurting you, of trying to terrify you into submission...those are over, babe. I know how wrong it all was. I just want you. I'll always just want you, and I'll spend the rest of my life trying to get you back where you belong."

I reluctantly peeled myself away from his chest and looked up at him. He seemed mournful, yet there was still a glint of determination in his face.

"I love you," he continued. "I'm in love with you. That's all there is to it."

He brought a hand up and stroked his fingers over my cheek and down my neck. My heart started slamming wildly against my ribcage, but I wasn't afraid.

His lips parted slightly, and after all this time I still knew that look – it was the one he had when he was about to kiss me. I didn't know how I felt about it...but I elected not to push him away either.

Then, as quickly as it had come, the moment was over. He shook himself out of it and dropped his hands away from me.

"Do you still want to go?" He asked, slowly stepping back.

I sighed. "I don't _want_ to," I admitted, "but I think I _need_ to."


	22. Chapter 22

He was quiet on the ride out.

I could sense that he didn't want to speak, for whatever reason. I thought it had something to do with how close we'd come to kissing, but I wasn't sure why he'd be upset about that – wasn't it what he was after?

After all that had happened, I still had a difficult time getting into his head.

"I'm sorry, Cass," he surprised me by saying as we bounced along the last mile or so of the dirt road leading to the house.

"Sorry?" I asked, unsure that I'd heard him correctly. He nodded. "What for?"

He shrugged, shaking his head. "I can't just go and push myself at you. I know you're still confused and scared, and the last thing I want is for you to agree to be with me because of those feelings." He glanced over at me. "I want you to be with me because you want to be."

He held my gaze for a second before looking back at the road. "So, I'm sorry. I won't do that again."

I stared down at my hands. "What if I want you to?"

His head shot around to look at me, but I kept my eyes down. I wasn't sure I could look at him right then.

He turned back to the road, getting ready to pull into the driveway. "Well," he said after a moment, "if you really want me to, you'll have to make the first move."

I nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."

He parked the truck and looked over at me, a small smile on his face. He opened his mouth and then closed it again, apparently thinking better of whatever he'd been planning on saying. "Are you ready?" He said instead.

"I'm not sure," I admitted, reaching to unbuckle my seat belt. "I guess we'll find out."

He reached out and put his hand over mine. "It's going to be fine. I promise." He squeezed my hand before pulling away. "At the very least, we're going to feed you."

"Why didn't you say so?" I asked, forcing myself to smile in spite of my nerves. "That makes everything better."

He grinned before popping his door open. I followed suit, cautiously stepping down into the driveway and shutting the door behind me.

"Well well," Bray's voice broke into the night, "look which lost little sheep has returned to the flock."

I searched the darkness for him before finally catching a glimpse of movement on the front porch. After a moment, a match flared and a light bloomed on a small table.

Bray was sitting on the porch, rocking back and forth. I prepared myself to run, but he held his position in the chair. I forced myself to relax.

"Welcome back, Cass," he continued, grinning widely at me. "I was worried that I might have scared you away."

I pushed my lips up into an approximation of a smile. "It's just a lot to take in," I lied. "I need some time."

"Mmm," Bray replied, still rocking and smiling at me. I had the strangest notion that he knew I was lying to him. "Don't take too long, now. Time is a precious commodity. You wouldn't want to...waste it all while you consider your options."

"I won't," I said.

"Kelly's waiting," Randy interrupted our strange conversation.

"Ah yes," Bray said, the chair still rocking rhythmically, thumping against the floorboards of the porch. "You wouldn't want to keep her waiting. I know she has...many things to discuss with you."

I stood staring at him for a brief moment, and his smile only grew wider. "Go on, now," he said, nodding towards the front door. "Don't waste another minute."

I elected not to linger further, walking towards the door. Randy was looking at Bray, obviously displeased, but he opened the door for me when I reached it. "Upstairs," he said. "Her bedroom is the first one on the right. Go on in; she's expecting you."

I offered him the strongest smile I could, and he winked at me. "Don't forget, we plan on feeding you." My smile became a bit more genuine, and he gently placed his hand on my back to guide me forward. "I'll be right here whenever you're ready."

I nodded and stepped in through the front door. Taking a deep breath, I began to slowly ascend the stairs. I had no idea what I was going to find, or what was going to happen...but I seemed to know, deep down, that whatever she wanted to tell me was knowledge I needed to obtain.

I paused just outside her door and peeked in.

She was awake, sitting up with her hands in her lap. She was wearing lipstick and blonde hair that, under my quick examination, appeared to be a wig. A decent wig, but a wig. She looked thin, her cheeks hollowed and her eyes sunken in.

She turned as I stepped forward, lightly rapping on the door with my knuckles.

Her smile was still brilliant and genuine, if a little tired. "Cassidy. I'm so glad you came. Come and sit with me."

She gestured to a chair set up beside her bed, and I crossed the room with my heart pounding and took a seat.

For a few long moments, we just sat and stared at each other. She seemed to be trying to take in every aspect of my appearance.

"Well," she said after a moment, "I can see why he likes you. You're the epitome of his type, down to the last detail."

She wasn't saying this with malice. I could sense that. She was just...stating a fact.

I relaxed slightly. This was how it was going to be. I could handle this.

"Why did you want to meet me?" I asked.

Her lips flicked up briefly before settling back into a neutral position. "Randy told you that I'm not well?"

I nodded in confirmation.

"Did he tell you what he did for me?"

I paused. "He told me that he married you so you could have health insurance."

She smiled. "He's so modest. He did a lot more for me. His father was dying, as I'm sure you might have known. I'd lost my job – I was an LPN at a nursing home in St. Louis – and was having a hell of a time trying to find a new one. We ran into each other. He took me in, gave me a job and a home. When I started to show signs of being sick, he's the one who persuaded me to go to the doctor. Not that it did a lot of good at that point," she gestured to her shrunken form in the bed. "He paid my hospital bills, even though I argued. Then he married me to make sure I never had to worry about it again."

I tried to comprehend the enormity of everything he'd done for her. "Why?" I asked. We were being honest; there was no point in beating around the bush with each other. She was dying, and I sensed that she had a lot to say before then.

She sighed. "That's a longer story. Tell me what you know about me."

I shook my head. "Not much. I know that you and Dean had a serious relationship. I know that you're married to Randy. I know you have cancer. I now know everything you just told me. That's it."

Her expression contorted into one of disgust. "Oh, Dean. Dean is where it all starts and ends. I wish I'd never met him. Maybe my life would've been different. Maybe I wouldn't be here."

My heart began pounding in my chest. "Tell me." I just wanted to know. At this point, even if the knowledge hurt – I _needed_ to know.

"Dean and I were young. We believed we were in love. I thought I was in love because he was so...gritty. You know what I mean. When you're young, you love those damaged kinds of men. You think you can fix them. I can only imagine that Dean liked being taken care of and believed that to be love.

"I went along with a lot of things I shouldn't have. I let him believe I...enjoyed things that I didn't. Don't we all do foolish things for love? Especially when we're young?"

I didn't have an answer for her, although I felt a pit form in my stomach with the name 'Peter' written all over it.

"I'm babbling. I seem to do that more and more these days," she sighed. "In any event, we bumbled along, fighting and making up like stupid teenagers tend to do. Then...I got pregnant with our son."

She caught my attention with that. Dean had never mentioned anything about a kid.

"What happened?" It came out of my mouth as a whisper.

"Not much, not for the first few years. We tried to play house. Managed to do all right with it." I could tell she was getting tired; her words were coming out faster, but much choppier than before. "Then...I blame myself, you know. Shouldn't have left him alone with Dean. Knew that he'd been drinking. He just made me so angry; I _needed_ to get out of the house."

I closed my eyes. I didn't want to hear this.

"What kind of idiot leaves a two-year-old alone in a bathtub? Dean. He left him alone and went to go pass out on the couch."

I could still hear the anger in her voice, the rage and the grief. I knew it all too well.

"When I got home, the house was surrounded with cops and medics. They couldn't do anything. My little one, the reason I was alive, he died alone in the bathtub of a crappy rental while his daddy slept off the booze."

The room fell silent. I was trying so hard to comprehend all of this.

"You know the worst part? He told me not to worry. He dropped down on one knee and asked me to marry him, and then told me...he told me we could have another baby. Like that would fix it all."

I closed my eyes, unsurprised to feel tears spill out onto my cheeks. "That fucking idiot," I said hollowly. "That goddamn moron."

She laughed bitterly. "I'm glad you agree. I threw him out. I told myself I had plenty of time. Then... I guess it was my karma. I should've done better by my son."

"I'm so sorry," I said. "I truly am. But...why are you telling me all of this?"

She adjusted herself on the bed. She looked positively exhausted. "I want you to understand that Randy saved me from myself. I was lost, destitute, and afraid. He took me in and he cleaned up Dean's mess as best he could. It's what he's been doing all his life; cleaning up after Dean. It takes a toll on a man.

"I know all about what he did to you. I know every horror that you lived through. I want you to know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that the Randy waiting for you downstairs is a different man. Without Dean around..." She shook her head. "Without him, he stabilized. He accepted who he was and he grew beyond a spoiled man-child. He became a man.

"The one thing that hasn't changed is how he feels about you. I hear your name every single day. We all do," she laughed, which devolved into a brief coughing fit. I stood up to help her, but she waved me away.

"I'm fine. They tell me my lungs are filling up with fluid," she explained. "I guess that can happen towards the end."

I opened my mouth – I think to apologize – and she waved me off again. "I've made my peace with it," she explained. "Apologies, expressions of grief...save it all for the ones who are left. I'm ready, and anyone who tells me they're sorry is going to get popped in the throat."

Amazingly, I laughed. I liked her.

"So why is it important for you to tell me everything?"

She shook her head, rolling her eyes at herself. "I lose track so often. I wanted you to know because I know how frightening it can be as a woman. You hear them swear they're done and that your life will be different, and so often it's a lie...but with Randy, it's not a lie. He's changed as much as he tells you. If you ask, he'll give you the world."

She leaned towards me. "And, honey, he owes you the world, just between you and me. But that might be why he's good for you. He's the only man in this world who understands what you've been through and knows what to never do to push your buttons."

"Or knows exactly what to do to push them," I countered.

She nodded. "Could be. But how will you know until you try?" She eyed me carefully. "You're allowed to tell me I'm a crazy meddling bitch and walk away forever. I don't think you will, though. I think you're just as broken as he was when we found him – and I think you're starting to realize that."

I glanced down at my hands. "So what do I do?"

"Heal," she said. "From one broken woman to another...you never know when your time's up. It's cliché, but life is so fucking short. You can hobble along, broken and scared, until your number's called...or you can try to fix yourself and walk gracefully into the next life knowing that you lived the best you could."

Her words resonated through the very core of my self. I couldn't say that. If I were to die tomorrow, I'd be grateful. I'd hope for nothingness. It wasn't what I wanted.

"You'll have to forgive me," she continued. "I'm so tired." She weakly reached a hand out, and I took it. "Thank you for coming and listening to my nonsense. I hope you'll come see me again soon."


	23. Chapter 23

I stared down at my plate, still trying to reconcile all of this new knowledge into something I could understand.

It wasn't working.

I could tell that I was being rude. The room was completely silent, with the occasional nervous glances flung in my direction. I just didn't care.

I'd known that there was more to Kelly and Dean's relationship than he'd let on. I just never thought that it would be something of this magnitude. A child. Worse...a dead child. And all from Dean's drunken negligence.

I was trying not to think of him as a horrible person. I was sure that he'd burrowed in his grief and had become the man I knew out of his pain. Something like that was bound to change you in a fundamental way...right?

I was thrown back into the present when Randy lightly placed a hand on my thigh.

"All done?" He asked. I glanced up at him and saw him offering an unsure smile. I nodded, and he whisked the plate in front of me away.

With that unspoken signal, everyone else began to get up from the table, picking up their dishes and the various food along the table. I sat with my hands in my lap, knowing that I should help but unable to spur myself into motion.

A warm hand fell on my shoulder. I turned my head to see Bray standing behind me smiling. "Why don't you come sit outside with me?"

There was nothing I wanted to do less than that, but I could sense that it wasn't so much an offer as a demand. I pushed my chair back and stood up, trailing behind him as he walked out to the front porch. He sat in the one chair on the porch and gestured me towards the stairs.

I sat, resting my back against the bannister so that I faced him.

We were silent for a few minutes. I took the time to enjoy where we were – it was so much quieter than my little apartment in the city. I could hear birds chirping in the distance, their songs floating towards us on a cool breeze from the sunset-washed woods surrounding the house.

After a moment, Bray's rocking chair began to squeak as he mindlessly rocked back and forth.

"It's never easy to learn the truth about our heroes," he said.

"He wasn't my hero," I snapped.

"Yes he was. You felt like he...saved you. But he didn't. That was a lie. You saved yourself."

I shook my head. "And how exactly do you know that?"

"I know everything about your situation, Cassidy," he replied calmly, the chair squeaking a little faster. "In fact, I daresay I know more than you do when it's all said and done."

I could feel a well of rage begin to boil in my chest. It had taken me a long time to decide how to feel about Dean, and with Bray pushing me I realized that I was so damn angry. I was angry at him for lying. I was angry at him for being so careless. I was angry at him for being the exact opposite of what I'd expected him to be...the exact opposite of what I'd needed him to be.

I swallowed hard. I wasn't going to dissolve into tears in front of this man.

"You don't like me," Bray said, "because I speak the truth...and it's not something you're ready to hear. But it's something you _need_ to hear. You need to shed the skin of this false life and begin to live a new life; one based in truth."

"Let me guess," I said dryly, refusing to meet his eyes, "beginning this life of truth is something you can help me with."

"Of course. But you need to come to me willingly."

"What if I don't want to?"

The rocking sped up. "That's your choice. You can live a life of lies; you can keep searching for your heroes to save you. You can let them fail you one by one before you realize that _you_ are the problem. You are the one who cannot tell yourself the truth – about yourself, about your life. The problem is, Cassidy..."

The rocking stopped abruptly and I looked up, unsurprised to see him leaning towards me, his eyes focused intently on me.

He waited to make sure I was paying complete attention to him.

"The problem is," he continued, "that I may not be there when you do realize this. Randy will have moved on – believe me, he has plenty of options now – and my family will be closed to you. You'll be destined to wander through the rest of your life alone and afraid. I'm offering you a way out of that. I'm offering you the chance for great reward...but only if you confront your lies. Only if you accept the truth..._my_ truth."

I stared at him for a long minute, my heart racing. I want to tell him that he was a goddamn lunatic; I wanted to get up and leave. But there was something in his words that struck me in the chest.

I think he knew that. He smiled and leaned back in the chair, returning to his rocking. He finally pulled his gaze from me, and I turned my attention to the railing across from where I was sitting.

Was I lying to myself? I didn't know. I guessed that I could be. After all, it was something that we did as a way to cope, to make it bearable to live in our own skin. If anybody needed that over the last few years, it was probably me.

Still, I thought that I'd at least learned to confront my situation and my past objectively. Then...tonight had happened. And I was beginning to realize that my past was still colored by my emotions. I had viewed Dean with a kind of rose tint, and I'd forgiven him a lot of sins as a result. I'd known the truth – he wasn't a good man – but I'd chosen to ignore it and believe that he was, all because he'd 'saved' me.

I could feel my mind perilously teetering on the edge of snapping once and for all. This was just too much for my brain and battered soul to confront.

"It's lovely out here, isn't it?" Bray's gravelly voice broke into my thoughts. "Randy said he always had a penchant for these country kind of homes. I wasn't entirely sure what to think when he first brought me here, to be honest."

I turned and stared at him as if he was speaking a foreign language. He didn't seem to notice.

"He's done well for us. I find a kind of peace here that I didn't in our previous home. There's more room to breathe; more room for me to think. In fact, I find that I need to pull myself out of my thoughts and push into the present. It's not good for a man to live exclusively inside of his head. Don't you agree?"

I realized that he knew exactly what he was doing. He'd somehow sensed how close I was to breaking and had shoved me back into the real world with just a few words.

He glanced back towards me. "We can't change our past. We can't undo what's already been done. But we _can _take it, learn from it, and move forward. Truth won't break you. It's the lies that do that. So stop lying to yourself, Cass. Just embrace the truth. Embrace your life. Embrace us, and we can help you with the rest."

I stared at him for a moment, swallowing hard. In those few moments, I felt all of the pain of the past pile on me. All of the bad decisions I'd made, all of the horrific situations I'd lived through...they all rushed down on me, threatening to crush me.

Bray's hand fell on my shoulder. "Stop fighting it," he said. "Just stop struggling. Let go. Let it all go."

I closed my eyes, unsurprised to feel tears spill out onto my cheeks for the second time today. I buried my head in my hands and sobbed like a child.

It felt like I would cry forever, and I couldn't really pinpoint why. Eventually, my tears slowed. I took deep, shuddering breaths. I was absolutely exhausted and oddly...empty.

Feeling ashamed, I picked my head up. Bray was still beside me, his hand resting gently on my shoulder.

"You'll stay," he said. "You'll stay here with us."

After a long moment, I nodded.


	24. Chapter 24

I could tell that Bray was pleased, but he tried to pull it back out of respect for my situation.

Simply put, I was an absolute fucking mess. I felt it, and I'm sure I looked it.

"You two ok out here?" Randy's low voice broke into my thoughts.

"We're doing just fine," Bray assured him, patting my back. "Cass and I were discussing her conversation with your wife. The truth was obviously...unsettling for her."

Randy didn't say anything, but after a minute he came and sat down beside me on the steps. Bray's hand fell away, and Randy wrapped his arm around my shoulders. Hesitating briefly, I eventually leaned against him. He rested his head on top of mine and squeezed me.

"Are you ok?"

I considered the question. "I'm not sure," I admitted.

"That's fair. It was kind of a stupid question."

I felt a chuckle rise up in my throat. "I look that good, huh?"

"You always look good to me." He pressed his lips against the top of my head.

We were quiet for a few minutes. I noticed then that Bray had taken his leave of us. I wasn't sure how I'd missed him slipping away, but I was glad that he had.

"Am I really lying to myself?" I asked. "Am I..." I struggled to find the words. Randy waited. "Am I everything that's wrong with my life?"

"I can't answer that for you, pretty lady. You need to figure it out for yourself. I can tell you that Bray made me realize how badly I was lying to myself, and how...uncomfortable that realization made me. No, not uncomfortable. It pissed me off. I didn't even know why it made me so angry. It's not an easy thing to find out every thought you've had, every justification you've made to yourself...it's all wrong. You feel like _you're_ wrong, every last bit of you. But you're not. It'll take some time for you to see that. Just stick with it. Stick with us."

"Stick with you; you're really going places?" I must've been feeling better if I was cracking dumb jokes.

He chuckled. "Something like that." He reached up and pulled my hair back from my face. "I promise, everything really is going to be all right."

I turned towards him slightly, looking him in the face for the first time since he'd come out to the porch. His eyes were full of sympathy and sadness.

"Are you ok?" I surprised myself by asking.

He offered a small smile. "I hate seeing you like this. I wish there was something I could do to take the pain away." He leaned forward and pressed his lips against my forehead. I closed my eyes and leaned further against him.

"You're doing all right," I assured him, nestling my head against his shoulder. Being close to him seemed to help push all of the craziness of the day away. I didn't want to think about what that meant for me yet. I just wanted to enjoy it.

He let me. For a few minutes.

"Bray's going to be talking to everyone in the barn again," he said in a low voice. "Do you feel up to it?"

"Honestly? Not really."

He nodded. "Then there's only one thing we can do," he sighed, pulling his arm away from me and standing up. I stared at him, confused, until he smiled and offered me his hand. "I need to buy you an ice cream cone."

I managed a small smile. "And how far of a drive is it to get one?"

"You let me worry about that."

I took his hand and he pulled me to my feet. "Just let me go throw some water on my face," I said, suddenly self-conscious. "I'm sure I'm a mess."

He shook his head. "You look fine. A little red, but really...you're perfect." He tugged gently on my hand. "Come on. Ice cream!"

Shaking my head, I allowed him to pull me along. "This better be some good ice cream."

"The best," he replied, opening the door to his truck for me.

"Shouldn't we tell someone we're leaving?" I asked, surprised as he climbed into the driver's side.

"And take orders for everyone here? Absolutely not." He winked at me, and I found myself smiling. "Just sit back and relax. Try to push all of the worries out of your mind and figure out what you're going to have."

"That's easy," I replied. "Vanilla – "

"With rainbow sprinkles," he finished along with me, smiling. "I should've known."

I felt a sinking in the pit of my stomach. "Am I really that predictable?"

He noticed my tone. "No. You just like what you like. There's nothing wrong with that."

"I guess." I closed my eyes. Every little thing was bothering me – I could only suppose that it was because my nerves were raw after everything today.

"You're going to love this place," Randy said. I could tell he was trying to pull me out of my own head. I decided to take the bait.

We chatted idly for the rest of the drive. He finally pulled in to a dirt driveway, kicking up dust as we drove up to another big white farmhouse, although this one was in better shape. Randy drove past the house and parked in front of a red barn.

He escorted me up to the window they had cut out for ordering, and we placed our orders. We waited for our cones and, once we had them, Randy led me over to a picnic table.

The ice cream was delicious.

"So," he started, his tongue darting out to catch a dribble of chocolate ice cream, "is there anything you want to talk about?"

I felt a souring in my stomach in spite of the ice cream. I sighed, wondering if I should broach this subject.

"Kelly told me about her and Dean's son," I said carefully.

He froze. "Oh boy."

"Yeah...I guess...I mean...why didn't he ever tell me?"

"He doesn't like talking about it. He has a lot of faults as a person, but...he was a good dad, no matter what Kelly tells you. He loved Brian. It was just a horrible accident."

I contemplated that for a minute. "I guess I could see that. Not wanting to talk about it, I mean. But...how he acted after..."

"You know better than anyone how grief messes with you. He wasn't right in the head. I don't think he's been right in the head since, and between you and I – with his early life, he didn't have a great base of sanity to begin with."

I nodded. "Yeah. He told me a bit about that."

"When you two were together? You guys were close?"

"After we left. We lived together for about a year."

"Here?"

"Yeah. In my apartment." He seemed a little taken aback. I rushed forward before he could ask questions. "It got complicated. I guess I just couldn't get over what had happened."

"So he left?"

"Not willingly," I admitted. "I pushed him away, and then I asked him to leave. He called every now and again asking to come back, and there were times I'd call him and nearly ask him to come back. It's a very..." I struggled, looking for a word besides 'complicated' to explain our relationship.

"Not an easy situation," Randy broke in. "I can understand that."

I shrugged. "So what about you? What happened to you after we left?"

He laughed, his face turning bright red. "I went nuts," he admitted. "I was bad when you were there; I went completely off the rails after you left. A lot of drinking, a lot of random women, a lot of...substances..." He shook his head. "That first year is a haze, honestly. Then I found out my dad was dying."

He glanced down at his ice cream cone. "I did what I thought I should and went to St. Louis, although he was the last person I wanted to see. I figured that he'd helped you and Dean leave, and I was pissed right off about it.

"When I got there, he tried to talk some sense into me. He told me about his relationship with my mom, and what had made him change. I started going to group, and it made me see where I was wrong. It just didn't show me how to fix it. It was really frustrating. I was watching my dad wither in front of my eyes and I was figuring out why you'd left but not what to do about it.

"Then Kelly came along. She needed a job, dad needed someone to look out for him. She introduced me to Bray. The rest..." he shrugged. "Well, you can guess. Here we are. Eating ice cream."

I laughed. "It seems absurd, doesn't it?"

He nodded. "In a really, really good way." He reached across the table and laid his hand on mine. "I have missed you so much."

I closed my eyes against an onslaught of tears. I'd cried enough today. The emotion in his voice was just so raw, so real, that I knew he was telling the truth. "I missed this side of you," I admitted. "I didn't miss the other."

He shook his head. "I don't miss that side of me, either. I'm glad that he's gone. Especially if it means I get to be in your life again."

I swallowed hard. "One step at a time, ok? This, right here, is a good start."

"Yeah," he agreed. "This is perfect."

We went back to our ice cream. My head was spinning for the rest of our outing. When we got back in the truck, he asked if I wanted to go home or back to the house. I surprised both of us when I said I wanted to go back to the house.

He led me up to the spare bedroom. "You should be comfortable in here. The bedding's all clean; just changed the sheets yesterday."

I glanced around the room. It was undeniably cozy; light wood floors and white walls, the only furniture a bed with a multicolored quilt and a dresser. I turned back and smiled at him. "It'll be perfect."

He nodded. "Do you need something to sleep in? I can grab you one of my t-shirts."

I shook my head. "I'll be fine."

He grinned. "All right. Sleep well, ok? If you need me, I'm right next door."

I sat on the bed, testing the mattress. "Thanks."

"Night, pretty lady."

"Good night." I offered him a smile.

He walked out, closing the door behind him, and I tried to get settled.

Sleep wouldn't come. I tried to chalk it up to so many different things – an unusual place, surrounded by undeniably unusual people. The trauma of the day. I still tossed and turned for a few hours.

Finally giving up, I slipped out of the bed and crossed the room. I hesitated at the door before just shaking my head and going.

I knocked on his door before I could lose my nerve. After a minute, he opened the door and regarded me sleepily. "Hey, what's going on Cass?"

I tried to smile. "Can't sleep. Can I come in?"

"Sure," he stepped aside to let me in. "What's going on?"

I stepped in and saw that he was wearing only boxers. He still...after all this time...

Well hell. There was no other way to say it. He was still buff, and he was still immensely attractive.

I shook myself out of it. "I don't really know. It was just a...tough day."

He nodded. "What can I do?"

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "I was just tired of being alone in that room."

He smiled. "All right. Come on in. I don't have a chair or anything, but if you're ok with it we can sit on the bed and hang out."

"That sounds really good to me."

I went to his bed and slipped under the covers, snuggling into the sheets that still smelled familiar after all this time. He slid in beside me. I hesitated a minute before moving closer to him and snuggling into his side.

He inhaled sharply and, after a minute, wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

I was asleep within seconds.


	25. Chapter 25

_Cass was sleeping so soundly that she didn't hear the quiet – but insistent – knocking on the door._

_Randy glanced down at her for the hundredth time in the past hour, trying to assure himself that he wasn't dreaming. She really was here, curled tightly around him._

_It was heaven._

_And now someone was striving to take it away from him._

_He considered ignoring it, but if someone was knocking at three in the morning it was obviously urgent. Reluctantly, he carefully peeled himself away from her, bringing the blankets up to her chin and lightly kissing her on the temple. She murmured sleepily, but didn't wake up._

_He slid out of bed and crossed the room, opening the door to Luke, who was standing with a lowered lantern._

"_What?" He hissed, stepping into the hallway and partially closing the door so the light didn't disturb Cass._

"_Bray needs you. In the shed."_

_The words would have been ominous enough in a brightly-lit hallway delivered by a Playboy bunny, and under the current circumstances Randy was surprised that he didn't vomit on the spot._

"_What is it?"_

"_Come see."_

_He closed his eyes. "Give me a minute." As Cass had once said, anything to be dealt with was usually better handled wearing pants. He made his way back into his room as quietly as he could, noting that she was still fast asleep – one small blessing – and hastily dressed in the clothes he'd thrown at the foot of the bed._

_He looked back one last time as he was leaving, a desperate yearning filling his chest. He just wanted one night. Apparently that was too much to ask._

"_Lead the way," he said quietly to Luke, peeking in Kelly's room as they passed. She was asleep as well, but she looked much less peaceful._

"_You fuck her?" Luke asked as they stepped out onto the porch._

"_Not an appropriate question," Randy snapped. Luke looked wounded, and he felt a bit of guilt come over him. "And, in case that didn't tell you, no." He forced himself to chuckle. "Not yet."_

"_Soon. She's all moon-eyed over you."_

"_I'm all moon-eyed over her," Randy replied. "We jump through some interesting hoops for women. Some of our own making. Try to remember to make your hoops as big as possible – they're easier to jump through."_

_Luke was absorbing his words as best he could. His brain moved slowly sometimes, and he had a tough time comprehending – but he thought he understood what Randy was saying. You're going to fuck it up anyway, so make it an easy fuck-up to fix._

_Wise advice. He'd expected nothing less._

_They reached the shed at the far edge of the property. Luke stopped at the doorway. They'd call him if he was needed._

_Randy continued on, coming to a stop beside Bray. "What is it?" He asked, staring at the huddled mass on the floor in front of him._

"_He won't eat."_

_Randy sighed and moved towards the figure, crouching down when he was about a foot away. The man growled low in his throat, a warning that Randy ignored._

"_Dean," he said gently. "Come on. We've been through this before. You can eat, or we can knock you out and put a tube in that will eat for you. Let's make this easy on all of us, ok?"_

_Dean lunged towards him, the collar around his neck stopping him inches from Randy's face. "Fuck you," he said around his dry tongue. He pulled up as much saliva as he could muster – admittedly, not much – and spit it in Randy's face._

_Randy felt the well of rage that was always in his chest boil up, but he took several breaths before calmly wiping the spit away._

"_Just fucking kill me," Dean rasped. "Get it over with."_

"_I've told you a hundred times, I don't want to kill you. _We_ don't want to kill you. Your own actions put you here, and you know that. If you would just _listen_ –"_

"_Listen to some bullshit propaganda about how the world is full of evil and we're about to go to war? Fuck you and your war. Fuck this collection of weirdos. I don't want a goddamn thing to do with it."_

_He paused. He knew what would make Dean fall in line, but it was dangerous. He could sense Bray's growing anger behind him and knew that it was the lesser of two evils._

"_Even if Cass is here?"_

_Dean froze. "What the fuck did you just say to me?"_

"_You wouldn't want anything to do with it even if Cass was here with us?"_

"_You fucking _monster._"_

"_No," Bray broke in. "That would be me. I'm the monster, Dean. I always have been. Randy's just telling you the truth. That sweet little girl is sleeping up in his bed as we speak."_

_Randy glanced over at Bray, wondering just how he knew, before he chastised himself and turned back towards Dean. It wasn't necessary to question_Him.

"_Just...think about that, all right?" Randy stood up, nudging the plate of food towards him with his foot. "Cass is here. I'm here. You could be here, too. Just show us something."_

_He walked away, stepping back out into the night. He wasn't sure how he felt about telling Dean, but it had to be done. There was only one way to get him to take care of himself, and Cass was it._

"_He's eating. Finally," Bray said as he came out, shutting the door behind him. "Very wise."_

_Randy shrugged. "It was an easy decision to make at three a.m."_

"_Especially when one has a warm bed and a warm body to return to. I'm sorry to have taken you from it."_

_Randy shrugged. "It had to be done. I understand."_

_Bray put a hand on his shoulder. "Still...to interrupt your first night with her... No matter; it's the first of many. Go on back. Sleep sweet, my son."_

_He'd never been happier to hear those words, and he made his way quickly before anyone could change their minds._

_He made a quick pit stop in the bathroom – he didn't intend to get out of bed again until forced – and undressed before creeping quietly down the hallway and back into his room._

_She was still there, still sleeping with a peace and stillness he hadn't seen from her in a very long time. He carefully placed his clothes back at the foot of the bed and slid back in between the blankets._

_She mumbled and shied away from him, and he was temporarily hurt – then he realized it was just his cold skin she was turning away from. He chuckled and pulled her closer. "Nope," he murmured. "You're not going anywhere."_

_He was surprised when she answered, her voice thick with sleep._

"_I'm not your personal space heater."_

"_You are tonight."_

_She grumbled good-naturedly and nestled into him. "Where were you? You're so cold." She rubbed her hands lazily over his chest, trying to warm him up and only succeeding in making his already-hard nipples stiffen further – a response which had very little to do with the cold._

"_Just had to run to the bathroom," he replied, gently plucking her hand from his chest before his situation became more dire. "I'm here now." He kissed her forehead. "I'm not going anywhere else."_

"_You'd better not," she replied, flinging her arm around his neck and tossing her leg over his._

_He smiled, slipping his arm under her pillow and wrapping it around to lightly stroke her back._

"_I wouldn't dream of it," he said softly. "Promise." He took his free hand and brought her chin up lightly, intending to give her a proper kiss goodnight – but she was already back in the clutches of sleep._

_Shaking his head, but still smiling, he lightly pressed his lips against hers before settling back into the bed._

_He didn't think he would sleep – he was living in a dream; why would he require sleep? – but eventually his body and mind wound down._

_As peace fell over the house, his last half-awake thought was that it was all finally coming together. Soon he'd have his life back._

_He fell asleep with a smile on his face._


	26. Chapter 26

I woke up curled around Randy.

I felt awkward about that for about half a minute before I decided not to care. I pressed in closer to him, nestling my head against his shoulder.

He pulled me closer to him and I felt his lips on my forehead. "Are you awake?" He murmured, his fingers trailing down my back.

"Do I have to be?"

He chuckled. "No," he assured me. "If you want to stay asleep, pretty lady, close your eyes and rest some more."

"What time is it?"

He moved slightly to grab his watch off of the nightstand. "Ten."

"Ten?" I asked, incredulous. "You're kidding me."

"Nope." He flopped back on the bed. "I don't think I've slept this late in years."

"You and me both," I replied, sitting up and stretching. "I've gotta get going; I have work today."

"Ugh, can't you call in?" He asked, his hands wrapping around my waist and pulling me back down on the bed. "Let's just spend the day here, cuddled up..." He trailed off, nuzzling my neck with his nose.

"I don't think you have just cuddling in mind," I teased, although my heart was pounding in my throat.

"Can you blame me?" He asked, his lips brushing against my skin with every word he spoke. "You're here. That alone would be enough, but you're in my bed, pressed up against me..." He paused. "I might be a different man, but I am still a man. And you're gorgeous."

I turned my head towards him slightly. "A far cry from you telling me that I would have to make the first move."

He grinned. "I haven't done anything yet. Just held you while you slept – and that was a move you _did_ make."

I nodded. "Yeah," I agreed. "I'm glad I did."

"Me too. But I'd be lying if I didn't say I'm dying for you to kiss me. Because all I want to do is grab you and kiss you like I've thought about every day for the past five years." He shook his head. "I don't want to push you, babe...but I can't help wanting you."

I closed my eyes. I'd told myself that the cuddling, the sleeping in the same bed – those were intimate lines that I could cross and know that I was sane. If it moved further than that, I was worried that it would label me a complete and utter lunatic.

I opened my eyes to see Randy staring at me, his blue eyes sleepy. "What are you afraid of, sweetheart?" I bit my lip. How could I explain this? How could I explain that I wanted to move forward – dear Lord, did I ever – but that my own brain was labeling me as insane?

"You can trust me," he said, bringing his hand up and brushing my hair out of my face. "Haven't you seen that yet? I'll follow you around like a puppy dog for the rest of my life trying to prove how much I love –"

I cut him off by leaning forward and slamming my lips against his. He froze for a moment before wrapping his arms around me and pulling me to him, kissing me intensely.

I pulled back and rested my forehead against his. "Please tell me I'm not making a huge mistake," I whispered. "Please promise me."

His hand was on my cheek. "I promise." He leaned forward and kissed me again, his lips gentle on mine. "I've spent all this time trying to find you again. I'm not going to do anything to lose you this time."

I smiled, trying desperately to believe his words.

"Now," he said in a low voice, "how about calling into work and spending the day in bed with me?" He grinned. "I'm thinking by the end of the day I might convince you to go to second base."

I laughed, playfully shoving his shoulder. "Give me some credit," I teased. "I'm pretty sure if you got to second base there'd be nothing stopping you from rounding third and driving it home."

He whimpered. "Oh God, third. I've missed third." He leaned forward and kissed me again, and somehow I wound up flat on my back with him on top of me.

He paused and looked down at me. "I can't believe," he said, "that you're actually here. I keep expecting to wake up."

I smiled, leaning up to kiss him.

"Since you are here," he continued in a low voice, his hand lightly sliding up my inner thigh, "I want to tell you that last night was perfect and completely frustrating."

"Frustrating?" I asked, focused on the fingertips brushing against the edge of my panties. "Why don't you elaborate?"

He grinned, knowing what I was doing. "Elaborate? If you insist..."

"Oh, I do."

He leaned closer to me, his fingers stroking softly over my panties. "It wasn't so bad when you were all cuddled up with me. But then I had to get up, go use the bathroom – not easy with half a hard-on, by the way, thanks – and when I came back, my skin was cold...you were so warm..." His fingers stopped and his hands slid up my torso. "You were so sweet. Tried to warm me up. Ran your hands over my chest..." he paused to demonstrate, lightly stroking one big hand between my breasts. "That was torture. But it still wasn't as bad as when you pressed back against me and fell asleep. Any ideas why?"

"None," I replied, my voice slightly breathless.

"I guess I must have made you cold," he replied, tugging gently on my shirt to pull it taut. "Your nipples were hard...like they are now...and pressed against my chest and arm. You flung your leg around me, and I could feel the heat rolling through you."

He bent down and kissed me. "Torture," he reiterated. "Being that close to you and feeling everything I couldn't have." He met my eyes. "Kind of like right now," he said in a low voice.

The world froze for a moment. Here it was again – another chance to turn back, to take a different path.

Instead, I slid my hand down his chest, pausing to lightly pinch one of his nipples before continuing down.

I think he stopped breathing in the few seconds before I slid my hand into his boxers. He exhaled shakily when I wrapped my hand around him for the first time, and then closed his eyes in complete and utter bliss when I began moving my hand up and down.

"Cass..." he moaned, bending down to kiss me. "You have no idea how badly I've wanted this."

I didn't say anything; I merely took his hand and guided it down between my thighs. He took the hint and worked his fingers inside my panties, groaning as his fingers brushed against my wet, swollen flesh.

I expected a wise remark, but he just kissed me again – his lips harsher on mine this time, his fingers beginning to stroke more insistently. I matched his pace, squeezing lightly and pleased to feel him throb beneath my touch.

"I love you," he murmured, bending to press his lips against my neck while he began tugging my panties down. "Do you think," he asked, sliding up to flick my earlobe with his tongue, "that we can skip third and go straight home?"

I laughed and started to work on sliding his boxers down his hips, turning to kiss him again. He finished pulling my panties off and brought his hands up to help me undress him.

I spread my thighs, pressing my hips towards him. He took the head of his erection and rubbed it through my wet lips, grinning when I arched my back as he bumped against my clit.

"You like that?"

"Yes," I breathed, reaching up and digging my nails into his back.

"Do you want me?" He slid himself down and ran his head lightly around my entrance. "Just say the word, baby, and you can have me."

I was about to say that word when we were interrupted by a knock at the door. Randy froze. "You have got to be fucking kidding me," he muttered before barking out a terse "What?"

"Bray needs to see you," a woman called through the door. "He says he's sorry, but it's urgent."

Randy glanced down at me with real regret. I smiled in what I hoped was an understanding way and nodded towards the door. "It's all right."

"Five minutes," he promised, bending down to kiss me. "Ten at the most."

I watched him struggle into his clothes, mildly amused as he tried to wrestle his substantial erection into his jeans. There would be no doubt as to what we'd been up to, but that thought didn't really bother me.

I settled back into the bed, waving at him as he hurried out the door.

After several long minutes, I stood up and pulled my own clothes on.

If I was going to call into work, I needed my phone.


	27. Chapter 27

I waited for Randy for about half an hour before I realized he had probably encountered a bigger problem than expected.

The way I saw it, I could either sit here and wait for him to come back and ravage me...or I could show him that there were consequences to walking away.

I liked to think of it that way, but really...I was just hungry and bored, and I decided to do something about both conditions. I figured we'd have time to continue our activities later.

I dressed and cautiously made my way down to the kitchen. The room was bustling with pre-lunch preparations – two of the women appeared overwhelmed as they tried to prepare a substantial amount of food. It would appear that there was another sermon afoot.

I rolled up my sleeves and jumped in. They seemed happy for the help, and I was happy to have something to do – especially something that allowed me to sneak a few bites of food here and there.

"You stayed," Bray said, sliding into a stool on the other side of the counter. "I wasn't sure if you would."

I suddenly felt self-conscious. "I stayed," I confirmed, my cheeks burning. I focused my attention on the tomato I was slicing, hoping that he'd leave it at that and move on.

He didn't. Of course he didn't.

"That explains Randy's...irritation with me this morning. I'm sorry to have taken him from you."

"You didn't. I was in the guest room."

He laughed. "I thought I asked you not to lie to me, Cassidy. I'll let that one slide; I understand you're trying to...maintain a certain reputation. But you have no reputation to be concerned with here. You're our sister, and you are an adult – free to do as you feel best."

"I'll keep that in mind," I replied, sensing that I needed to tread lightly. Bray looked like he'd spent the whole night awake – and it appeared to have been a troubling night. "It's a different societal expectation for me," I added.

He nodded. "There is always a...period of adjustment. I think yours will be easier than most. Randy is going to guide you through it as quickly as possible. I believe that boy will drag you through it in a week," he chuckled, "so he can finally have you here."

I felt a sinking in my stomach. This discussion – as if my presence was a foregone conclusion – made me undeniably uncomfortable and made me reconsider everything that had happened this morning.

Then Randy walked in.

He smiled when he saw me. "I was hoping you weren't stuck upstairs waiting," he greeted me, leaning across the counter to plant a kiss on the corner of my mouth. I managed to smile back at him. "I'm sorry about that. Can I make it up to you with dinner tonight?"

I was about to refuse – my conversation with Bray had unnerved me_ that_ much – but he leaned forward and whispered in my ear.

"Promise, we'll get away from the house. It'll just be you and me."

I turned towards him and gave him a small nod, offering up a smile. "Can't wait."

He smiled. "Me neither." He leaned forward and kissed me again, stealing an apple from the basket on the counter as he pulled back. "Just have a few more things to do. You don't mind helping out?"

"Of course not."

"All right. I'll see you in a bit." He kissed me yet again, and I could feel my face start to burn yet again. I glanced around, but no one else seemed to be fazed by his affection towards me – in spite of the fact that his wife was upstairs.

I found myself wondering – really, truly considering – just what I'd stepped into with this group. It didn't feel right to me.

I probably should have thought about that before I started jerking Randy off this morning. As always, my timing left something to be desired.

Bray seemed to sense the shape of my thoughts. "It won't seem so...foreign...once you become more involved. I know we're pushing, but we're all just so pleased you're finally here. You'll forgive our forwardness, I hope."

I managed to smile at him. "Of course."

He smiled back at me. "We'll try to take our time with you."

The words struck another chill through me, but I forced myself to ignore it and return to the business of preparing lunch.

More folks eventually trickled in, helping us carry trays outside where the men had been setting up picnic tables. Randy re-appeared just when we were getting settled in to eat, taking a seat beside me with a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Went to check on Kelly," he explained to me around a mouthful of bread. "She wants to see you before we go out. Is that all right?"

I nodded. "Sure. What time are we leaving?"

He shrugged. "Some time after the meeting. I'm going to guess you actually did call into work today." He turned and regarded me with a mischievous glint in his eye. I had to grin back.

"You're a terrible influence."

"You love it."

I decided to change the subject. "And where are you taking me tonight? It had better be good, seeing as I'm missing out on a Saturday night of tips."

"It's a surprise. I think you'll like it." He grinned at me, and my heart picked up its pace in my chest.

I couldn't deny how I felt when he looked at me like that. I could try to fight it, but I sensed that I'd end up in the same place. I'd always come wearily trudging home to him.

The realization was momentous. Practically my whole life had been centered around him – whether I knew it at the time or not – and he felt like home to me. He always would.

I'd been operating under the assumption that his change was for show, and that there was a more sinister purpose here. But what proof did I really have? How excited everyone was for us? Not exactly earth-shattering.

What if...just what if...I was his home, too? And what if he'd decided that he was tired of wandering through life homeless? Was it enough to push him to change?

I knew it would be enough for me.

I tried to be more engaged with the people Bray had assembled during lunch. They were all nice enough, very welcoming and accepting. All except Luke, who still hadn't learned that staring holes in the side of my head made me uncomfortable...but did he know any better? I guessed not.

Even the sermon today wasn't as...desperate. Bray talked about understanding ourselves through the lens of our past – how we couldn't let our previous lives color who we were and what we did today. It all made sense to me, especially because he wasn't talking about some kind of spiritual war.

I felt better walking out of that barn. And I finally understood why it held such an appeal for Randy.

"I take it you weren't terrified today," Randy said as we walked back up to the house.

"No," I admitted. "That was...actually pretty good."

I could see him smiling from the corner of my eye. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. Why don't you head on up and talk with Kelly; I'll start getting ready to go."

"I should probably at least shower or something."

"You'll have all the time you'll need. Reservation isn't until seven. We just need to leave by six."

"Six?" I asked. "Where are we going that requires an hour of travel?"

He grinned. "If I told you, I wouldn't be able to surprise you. Now go on." He nodded towards the back door. "I'll see you in a bit."

I made my way up the stairs to see Kelly. I wasn't sure what she'd heard or what she might want, but I decided that the wife of the man I was going on a date with tonight deserved to have me comply with her request.

She was sitting up in the bed, and managed to smile at me when I walked in.

"How are you feeling today?"

"Better," she replied. "Come sit for a minute."

I took a seat at the chair beside her bed. Once I was settled, she continued.

"Randy was talking my ear off earlier this afternoon. I hear you two are going out tonight."

"We are. I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about it first. It just kind of...happened."

"Why on earth would you need to talk to me first?"

I opened my mouth and closed it again, trying to find the best way to phrase it. While I was thinking, she sighed.

"Honey...he's my husband in name only. I love Randy, and he loves me. We saved each other. But there's no...passion between us. There's no romantic sort of love. He holds all of that for you, just like I hold all of mine for... I don't have a single problem with you and him. In fact, I am so damn happy that it's all working out like this." She smiled. "I just wanted to tell you to have fun tonight. And that you should look in my closet."

"Oh, no, Randy said this would be..."

She held her hand up. "I know Randy has plans. And I know you'll be more comfortable if you look the part. It's a dress he actually picked out a long time ago for you. He feels like a nutcase mentioning it, I'm sure, because he bought it almost right after you'd left. He was a little...lost then, not totally right in the head. But it's beautiful and it was meant for you – so you should have it."

Reluctantly, I stood and went to the closet, opening it with hands that shook slightly. There was only one thing in there – a cream-colored dress topped with black lace. I pulled it out and studied it – long lace sleeves, and it would fall to about my knees. It was precisely my style.

"I think he even bought shoes for you. They should be in a box on the floor."

I checked. They were – simple black pumps.

I swallowed hard and turned to look at Kelly.

"Why did he do this?"

She seemed surprised by my reaction. "He did that a lot when you first left. I think that he thought buying you things would bring you back. He wasn't in a good place, and when he got to a good place he got rid of most of the things he'd acquired. He held onto this because he always wanted to see you in it, to take you out and show you off." She smiled, but I could see she was worried how I'd take it. "Let him show you off. If you give him nothing else tonight, just give him that."


	28. Chapter 28

I was a little unsteady walking down the stairs, and it wasn't because the heels were difficult to walk in.

I wasn't sure how Randy would react to seeing me in this dress – which fit perfectly and looked, if I might say so, very nice on me.

My conversation with Kelly had raised more questions than anything. Randy hadn't been the type to buy gifts unless he was in trouble – he was very careful with his money. I found the idea of him buying endless trinkets for me when I wasn't there out of character.

Then again, it seemed like a lot of things about him lately were out of character with the man I'd known.

Randy was fussing with the cuffs on his shirt when I made my way down. He glanced up and immediately did a double-take.

I bit my lower lip, watching the expression on his face change. He looked stunned at first, followed by a reddening of his cheeks that I associated with anger. He caught me looking and tried to smooth his expression out.

I had to ask. "Is this ok? I can change..."

He shook his head, holding his hand out to help me down the last few stairs. "You look gorgeous," he replied, forcing himself to smile. "Kelly let you borrow this?"

"Yeah," I replied, sensing that he didn't want me to know the truth. I decided to just go with it. "She said she wanted me to be comfortable with our surroundings."

His smile became more genuine. "There she goes, giving away my secrets. But she was right. It's easy for me to say; I'll be the envy of every man in the room."

I smiled, feeling myself start to blush. "Oh stop it."

He pulled me into his arms. "Never." He kissed my forehead. "Are you ready, beautiful?"

"Whenever you are," I replied.

We made our way out to the truck and spent a very quiet, very tense fifteen minutes driving away from the house.

"Cass," he finally said. "I should tell you the truth." He nodded towards my dress. "About that."

I sighed. "Would you be upset if I said that Kelly already told me?"

I watched his hands clench the steering wheel and quickly release. "I'm not sure why I'm surprised," he admitted.

"She...said you bought a lot of things for me. After I left."

He nodded. "I did. Jewelry and clothes and artwork, even kitchen stuff you'd wanted."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "I wasn't in a good way then. I was angry that you'd left; that shouldn't surprise you. I couldn't stop thinking about you, and I spent all of my time pissed off. Until one day...I went into a store and walked out with a sapphire necklace for you. It made me feel better. I could think about you and not be angry. So...it became my way to cope. I had rooms full of things for you, up until I could finally face thinking about you without it breaking my heart. This is the only thing I held on to. I think I made a good choice."

I smiled. "I agree."

He reached over and put his hand on my thigh. "I was really messed up, Cass. It's hard for me to remember all that."

"I understand," I replied, putting my hand over his. "It seems like our past is nothing but pain and mistake after mistake."

He chuckled. "Honestly? That's because it is. But it gave us a good base. We got all of our mistakes out of the way, baby. We can just..._be_ now, you know?"

I nodded. "I hope that's right. I think we're doing all right. I still...I'm still having a really hard time believing that this is actually happening. I keep thinking that this is just some kind of a ploy, that you're going to turn back into the Randy of old and I'm going to be in the same boat I was five years ago."

He bit his lower lip. "I know. I'm trying to prove this to you the best way I can – I'm different now. I think it scares you because you can see that I'm telling you the truth."

"Yeah," I admitted. "I can. I still have so many questions, though. About how you got here."

"So ask me one. Ask me the first thing you can think of."

I contemplated for a minute. "Why are you spending money like it's going out of style all of the sudden?" I blurted out.

He laughed. "Not the question I was expecting."

"It's one of the most notable differences about you that I don't have an explanation for."

"That's fair," he replied thoughtfully. "Well. You know my dad was pretty well-off. He left everything he had to me and my mom, but she didn't want any of it. I got everything, plus the profits from the sale of the house. It made it so that, if managed carefully, I never have to work again. But I like working; it gives me a sense of purpose. So, any money I make from my job..." He shrugged. "Let's just say I have plenty of breathing room."

"OK," I replied. "You told me you came up here because Kelly was ready to move. Is that the truth?"

"Yes. She was sick and getting sicker in St. Louis. I'd been putting off coming to see you because...well, because I was scared. I could live with the possibility of you coming back to me; the idea that you'd say no...I think it would have killed me. She finally pushed me to make the move. She wanted to be around in case..."

"In case it didn't work out," I finished for him.

He nodded. "Exactly. She wasn't sure how badly I'd take it. None of us really were. Thankfully, it seems like we don't have to worry about that."

I waited a bit before asking my next question, trying to come up with the best way to ask it. "How do you expect this to go?"

"Tonight? Or everything?"

"Everything."

He nodded. "I'm not sure. I'm trying to take this day-by-day, see how you're feeling and respond the best I can to you. Ideally, I'd love for you to drop everything, come live with me, and marry me when the time came. But I know you're not ready for that. Still..." He shrugged. "New policy of being honest and all. It's what I want."

"And if Dean came back into the picture?"

He froze for a minute. I'd been asking him nice questions up until this point. This was a messy one.

"How would he come back?"

I shrugged. "He pops up from time to time. Usually with a bucketful of problems, since we're being honest. How are you going to handle it when he shows up again?"

He licked his lips. "I guess it would depend on what you wanted, and what he wanted. If he just needs a friend...I'd hope we could mend that bridge. I'd hope we could be there for one another like we used to be. Do I think that's possible? Probably not. But I can hope that we'll make our amends one day."

"Do you still want us to be a family?"

"I don't think that's possible."

"But do you want it?" I pressed.

He was quiet for a few minutes, and I was worried that I'd pushed him too far. Finally, he licked his lips and answered me.

"Being with Bray," he began, "taught me a lot of things. One of those things was not to deny who I am. I spent so long being angry and feeling wrong about how I felt. I...like men. I love women, but men have the capability to arouse me. Would I like to have a loving relationship with a man and a woman? Maybe. But I'm more worried about making sure I have the right woman in my life. I'm more worried about having you. If you don't want it, if it doesn't work – then we don't do it."

He was dodging me a little bit, but I felt I could understand. It was a difficult topic for both of us.

"Are you all right with that?" He asked, his voice filled with trepidation.

"Yes," I replied after some thought. "I'm really glad you came to terms with who you are. And I understand exactly what you're saying."

He smiled. "Phew," he jokingly wiped his hand over his brow. "There's something unnerving about laying yourself out like that."

I laughed. "You did well. I'm glad we can finally be completely honest with each other."

He brought his hand back over to cover mine. "Me too, baby. Me too."


	29. Chapter 29

I probably shouldn't have been surprised when Randy pulled up to El Gaucho in Portland – but I was.

I turned and whapped him on the arm. "No. This is way too expensive."

He fought back a smile. "I want a good steak, and I hear this is the place to do just that. You can come with me or you can stay in the truck."

The valet came around to open my door, and I figured that if he was willing to spend the money, I supposed I could see what all the fuss was about.

Everything ran smoothly for a while. The food was delicious, and the bottle of wine Randy had ordered for us was the perfect accompaniment. I happily gorged myself, not caring that my dinner alone had been fifty dollars.

He smiled at me around his hands. "So did I do all right?"

I shook my head, reaching for my glass of wine. "If your definition of 'all right' is having to roll me out of here, then yes."

He chuckled. "My definition is that you're happy. And maybe a little impressed."

I grinned. "You did all right, then. I'm both." I paused, trying to fight the urge to say my next thought out loud. I did it anyway. "I always wanted to come here. It was just...you know, money and all."

His smile dropped slightly. "That's totally understandable. I'm glad I could be the one to bring you here."

"Me too."

He reached for his own wine glass. "Where else can I take you that you haven't had a chance to go?"

I smiled, but felt a clench in my chest. "_This_ was way too much. I couldn't ask you to take me anywhere else."

"You're not asking. I am." He reached across the table and covered my hand with his, smiling at me. "I just want to show you a good time."

"You can do that without spending a fortune." My tone was a little harsher than I'd intended; I could see that by the way his brow furrowed.

"Ok," he agreed, squeezing my hand. "If it makes you uncomfortable, we certainly don't have to do it. I just thought...well, it doesn't matter what I thought. Let me know if you change your mind."

An uncomfortable silence descended over us. The waiter brought us the check, which Randy paid without so much as blinking – even though I knew it was somewhere in the hundred-fifty to two-hundred dollar range. For dinner. For two of us.

It boggled my mind.

We walked out, Randy keeping a careful distance from me. He waved to the valet and pointed up the block, then gently steered me in that direction.

"I'm sorry I made you upset," he said once we were alone. "I didn't mean to do that."

I sighed. "No. I'm sorry. It's just...uncomfortable for me to have you spending so much money on me. It makes me feel like a high-class hooker."

He chuckled. "At least you're a high-class one." He slipped his arm around my shoulders and I leaned into him.

"I have to tell you, you're really going to hate this next bit," he warned. I glanced up and he nodded at the building next to us – The Benson.

"You're fucking kidding me," I spat.

He laughed. "No. I didn't want us to be interrupted again tonight. I wanted you all to myself." He bent down and kissed me lightly on the mouth.

"A room here is...it's..."

"We're not in a room," he interrupted my sputtering. "We're in a suite. And yes, it was expensive. No, I don't care. If it really bothers you, we can leave. But it's already paid for, and it's right here."

I thought about it for a minute. "We can go in," I finally consented. I didn't want to ruin his plans for the night, and there was a certain curiosity about the place.

He smiled and grabbed my hand, leading me in through the front door. It was like stepping into a different life – a huge wood-paneled lobby with marble floors and a gigantic fireplace. Randy didn't seem at all fazed by this opulence and led me to the desk to pick up our keys.

I couldn't stop looking around and fervently hoping that our room was a bit more comfortable.

My wish was partially granted – when he opened the door, we were confronted immediately with a view of the sparkling lights of downtown Portland through the huge window across from us. There was a small sitting area with a couch and a few chairs – but no bed.

As Randy pulled me towards the couch, I was able to see the bedroom – it was in a separate room, closed off by a pair of French doors. The quick glance I had was able to ascertain that the room was dominated by a huge four-poster bed.

Everything, at the very least, was a little less ostentatious than it had been down in the lobby. I relaxed a bit.

Then Randy opened the bottle of champagne that was left on the dining room table. Freaking champagne. I'd never stayed anywhere more ritzy than a Motel 6. This couldn't be my life right now.

He handed me a glass without asking if I'd actually like one or not, and I gulped it down almost immediately. He raised an eyebrow, but took my glass to refill without comment.

Finally, he settled in beside me, wrapping his arm around me tightly.

"Cass," he began, "I want you to know something. I like spending money on you. I'd like to spend a whole lot more on you, if you'll let me. I have it to spend."

"I can't return the favor," I replied, shrugging like it was casual and I wasn't mortified. "I can't...I can barely pay my rent most months."

"I can help you."

"I don't _need_ help," I snapped. "I don't want to be...some kind of kept woman."

He shook his head. "That's not what I'm suggesting. I know how hard you work. I want you to have time to enjoy life, too. I want you to have time to enjoy _me_." He reached over and stroked a hand through my hair. "I could buy you a car. I could buy you a house. And I hope you'll let me do that some day. But for now, I'm going to settle for buying you nice dinners and giving you a gigantic tip whenever I come in to the restaurant."

I shook my head. "You don't get it."

"No, I think _you_ don't get it. I want to take care of you."

"I don't want to be taken care of!" I exploded, standing up. "What is so difficult to understand about that?"

"You _like_ slaving away for next-to-nothing? I could see you glowing tonight. You're only refusing me out of some stupid notion of pride. You have _nothing_ to be ashamed of, and you have no reason to kick up a fuss. Your pride will remain completely intact if you let me help you."

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my temper in check. "And what do you get out of it?"

He smiled. "I get to make you happy. I get to make your life easier. That's enough for me."

"And that's _all_ you're looking for?"

He nodded. "That's it. You could walk into that bedroom tonight and make me sleep on the couch. You could...decide to never see me again, and that'd be ok. I wouldn't like it, and it would hurt like hell – but if it makes you happy, I can't argue...and I won't."

I swallowed hard, wondering just why this tugged at me so desperately.

"I love you, Cassidy. I love you with all of my heart. That's all there is to it."

All of my anger deflated. "You mean that, don't you?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I do. Maybe you wish I didn't, but I do."

"Fuck," I sighed, falling back onto the couch beside him.

"What did you think all this was? Just an attempt to get into your pants?"

"I was kind of hoping," I admitted.

I could see him fighting back a grin. "I'm sorry to disappoint you. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'd love to get into your pants...but that's not all I want." He leaned over and kissed my temple. "I want you, babe. All of you."

I closed my eyes and leaned into him.

"Are we done fighting now?" He asked, wrapping an arm around me.

I nodded. "Yeah. We're done."

"Can I get into your pants now?" He teased, grinning.

I nudged him in the ribs with my elbow, fighting back a smile. "You've got to put a little more work in," I replied. "Fighting killed the mood."

"Mmm...I can manage that," he said, brushing my hair back to expose my neck. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against my skin, right over the pulse point of my carotid artery. After a second, his lips parted and his tongue darted out to lightly trace a line down my neck.

I felt an instant surge of heat rush through me, and I tilted my neck to expose more of it to him. He took advantage, tracing his tongue up and down my neck. On his next passage up, I turned my head and caught him with a kiss.

It started off sweet, but quickly evolved into a kiss filled with intense passion. At some point during it, he pulled me onto his lap, his hands sliding up my thighs and underneath my skirt. I pulled back, gasping for air, and reached back to begin to struggle with the zipper on the back of my dress.

He kissed down my neck, moving his hands to help me with my zipper. As he pulled it down, moving much more slowly than I would have liked, he trailed his lips over my breasts, bringing one hand back around to squeeze my breast while he nuzzled his face in between them.

I sighed happily, rolling my hips against him. He pressed his hips up, and I could feel that he was starting to get hard.

He pulled back. "Do you want to take this to the bed?" He asked, looking at me through half-lidded eyes.

I nodded, wrapping my arms around his neck and leaning down to kiss him again. He stood up, and I wrapped my legs tightly around his waist. I kept my lips against his while he walked us towards the bedroom, depositing me on the bed.

"I've been waiting a very long time for this," he murmured next to my ear, trailing his hand down my abdomen. I turned my head and kissed him again, beginning to squirm out of my dress. He brought his hands back up and began tugging, helping me pull it off of my shoulders and down. I raised my hips and allowed him to pull it all the way off.

He paused for a moment, staring down at me, before he fell on me and began kissing every inch of exposed flesh he could reach, grinding his hips against mine.

"Why are you still dressed?" I asked, reaching to tug his shirt out of his pants. He smiled against my abdomen before rising to his knees, his hand working deftly at the knot in his tie before moving to unbutton his shirt and throw it off.

I ran my hands over his chest and down his stomach, dipping my fingers partially into the waistband of his pants before working on unbuckling his belt.

"A bit impatient?" He asked, gently pushing my hands away and unbuckling the belt for me.

"Just ready," I replied.

He chuckled, unbuttoning his pants and sliding out of them. "You're ready? I spent all day cursing Bray for pulling me out of that bed." He covered my body with his again, kissing my neck and grabbing my breast.

"You should take this off," he murmured, indicating my bra. I unhooked it while he yanked my panties down, leaving me completely naked on the bed.

He started slowly, moving down to allow his tongue to lap at my nipples, occasionally pulling one into his mouth to suck on. He pulled back to admire his handiwork, placing one last kiss on each nipple before continuing down.

He wasn't wasting any time tonight – he buried his tongue in me immediately, a soft groan escaping his lips when he first touched me. There was no gentle build; he began licking and sucking my clit intensely immediately, plunging two fingers inside of me and pumping them in a rhythmic pace that matched the motions of his tongue.

My orgasm was intense and nearly immediate. I ran my fingers through his short hair, moaning while I pumped my hips against his face. He didn't stop, and my orgasm became more intense – waves and waves of nearly-unbearable pleasure rushed over me. My body pulled taut, like a string that was about to snap at any moment.

"Ran," I managed to spit, my hands and feet drumming against the bed as I shook. He ignored me and kept his pace until I screamed and sat bolt upright in bed, holding his head in place and grinding against his face.

He didn't stop until I'd collapsed back on the bed. My body was still trembling, a condition unhelped by his occasional gentle licking.

"I've missed that so much," he murmured breathlessly, kissing my inner thigh.

"Mmm," I replied, incapable of coherent speech at that moment.

He chuckled and pulled himself up to his knees. "I'll take that to mean you've missed it, too." He began lightly rubbing his fingers against my clit, making me shudder. "Do you need a minute?"

I wanted to say yes. Instead, I reached out and wrapped my hand around his erection. "No," I said, squeezing him gently. "I need this."

He smirked and pulled his boxers off, pulling my legs up and putting my feet on his shoulders. He teased his head through my lips before finally sliding down and thrusting completely inside of me.

I could feel myself clenching him tightly, still spasming from my orgasms. I dug my nails into his back, feeling myself rapidly rush towards the verge of another orgasm.

"I'm not going to last long," he warned, bending down to kiss me.

"Neither am I," I panted. "Just...please."

He groaned, kissing me one more time before pulling himself up to his knees. He wasn't gentle; ramming into me at a furious pace. It was, at most, three minutes – but it was the most blissful three minutes of sex I'd ever had, and the only three minutes that resulted in me having one hell of an orgasm.

Randy held out until he felt me start to let go, and then he let go himself – holding onto me tightly while his body shuddered on top of mine.

The room became suddenly silent, which made the ringing in my ears that much more noticeable.

"Fuck," Randy spat, resting his body on top of mine and kissing me. "Fuck."

"Yeah," I agreed, yawning. He laughed, kissing me one last time before flopping down on the bed beside me. I moved towards him automatically, nestling into his body and wrapping my arm around his waist.

I started to fall asleep, in a blissful state of satisfied exhaustion.

I barely noticed when Randy slipped from the bed, returning to the living room and closing the doors separating the bedroom from the rest of the space.

The last thing I remembered hearing was him talking to someone – mildly unintelligible words, a nice low buzz to accompany me into sleep. The words came to my ears, completely meaningless.

"I think she's coming around." Pause. "Yeah. We had a...discussion. She's still so prideful. We need to work on that." Pause. "No. Not yet. We need to be on solid ground before we can do that." Pause. "I said no. Not now. But soon. Soon."


	30. Chapter 30

I woke up with my face pressed into the pillow and my hips yanked up. I turned my head, happy to be able to breathe, and the situation suddenly dawned on me – Randy was behind me, thrusting deeply into me.

"What...?" I managed to ask.

Randy panted behind me. "I was trying to wake you up nicely. Got carried away." He reached down and began stroking my clit. "Want me to stop?"

"No," I murmured, pushing myself back against him.

He grunted and thrust harder, his hips rocking roughly against mine. He grabbed my hips tightly – almost to the point of pain – and held me still while he moved faster, finally achieving an orgasm. He was still for a moment before dropping to the bed beside me.

He pulled me to him, and I rested my head on his chest. We were quiet for a few long minutes, his hand stroking up and down my back.

He turned his head and kissed my forehead. "Why don't you come work for me?" He murmured against my skin.

"What do you mean?" I asked, still drowsy. I nuzzled into his warmth, wrapping an arm around his waist.

"You've seen the house. It's in rough shape. I need somebody to take care of it – cooking, cleaning, getting repair estimates..." He squeezed me. "Maybe the occasional bit of manual labor. I trust your judgment. I trust you to know if contractors are trying to screw you to the wall or not."

I hesitated for a minute. "I'd be happy to help, as long as it doesn't interfere with my actual job."

He chuckled. "Maybe I should have explained better – I want to hire you. To have you work full-time at the house and pay you."

"You don't have to – "

"I know," he interrupted, stroking his thumb over my shoulder. "But it's important enough for me to get all this done that I'm offering." He kissed me again. "You don't have to answer me now. Just know that the offer's on the table."

I nodded. "I'll think about it."

I yawned hard enough to crack my jaw. "I've kept you up way too late," he murmured, stroking his hand up and down my back. "Get some sleep." He kissed my forehead.

Warm and comfortable, I was asleep within minutes.

When I woke up again, the sun was streaming in, filtered by the curtains – and Randy's hand was between my thighs.

"Mmm haven't you had enough yet?" I asked, turning to face him.

I was met with a sleepy smile. "Never," he replied, leaning forward and pressing a light kiss on my lips.

I lie back and let him stroke me, pressing my hips down against his hand. After a few moments of being selfish, I reached out for him and wrapped my hand around his semi-hard cock.

He sighed happily, pressing his lips into my hair. "Does this feel ok? You're not too sore, are you?"

"It feels perfect," I murmured, leaning up to kiss him. "Absolutely perfect."

He grinned, pumping his lips lazily against me. "I couldn't agree more." He groaned softly as I tightened my grip. "I love you, babe. You know that, right?"

"I do," I murmured, leaning forward and pressing my mouth against one of his nipples. I wanted to avoid saying it back to him, so I figured distraction was the best tactic.

It worked. I heard him inhale sharply, felt him stiffen further in my hand.

"You still know just what to do," he breathed. I swirled my tongue around his nipple before lightly biting down.

He flipped me onto my back, climbing on top of me. "I'm not sure," he said in my ear as he rubbed his erection through my wet lips, "that I even have a drop of cum left in me."

I grinned. "You can still have an orgasm, though," I replied.

He laughed, plunging into me. "Even if I couldn't...I know _you_ can have one."

I sighed, arching my back and pressing my hips towards him. "You're going to make it tough for me to walk around today."

"That's the goal," he bent down and kissed me, rolling his hips. He slid his hand down and began rubbing my clit again while he thrust.

"You're evil," I chuckled, wrapping my arms around him.

"You love it," he replied, moving to kiss my neck. He sped up his thrusts. "You love _me_...don't you?" He bit down on my neck, thrusting into me harder. He grabbed my face and turned me towards him. "I _said_...don't you?"

I whimpered as he bit down on my earlobe.

"Just tell me yes," he murmured, rubbing my clit more intensely. "Tell me yes and I'll let you come."

"That's not how this should work," I protested, gasping as he rubbed me harder for a brief moment before pulling back.

He laughed. "Maybe not...but it's how it's working today." He slowed his pace down to where it was nearly non-existent, grinning at me. "Tell me what I want to hear." He bent and lightly kissed my neck. "You don't have to mean it, pretty lady," he whispered. "I've just missed hearing you say it." He began to rub more insistently, and after the brief pause the pleasure was much more intense.

"I love you," I whimpered, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck.

"That's my girl," he murmured before returning to his previous pace. It took me no time at all to have an orgasm.

I fell back onto the bed, exhausted, while he covered me in kisses. "That was absolutely perfect," he sighed, dropping down beside me. "I wish we never had to leave."

I snuggled into him. "I know. Life's not gonna stop for us, though."

"Yeah," he sighed, rubbing my shoulder. "Do you have work today?"

"I do."

"You should call in again."

"Do you want me to get fired?" I elbowed him.

"Maybe," he laughed. "It'd make it easier to convince you to come work for me." He kissed my forehead.

I turned my head up to kiss him. "I'll consider it. Can we be on the road in an hour?"

He grinned and nodded. "If you insist."

I pulled myself out of the bed and made my way to the shower. I tried to hurry along, but the shower was so nice. I was truly reluctant to leave this place. Some part of me must have known that I was leaving the good times behind.

Randy dropped me off at my apartment, making sure to give me a memorable goodbye kiss. "I'll drop your clothes off later, all right? Maybe I could stay the night." He winked at me.

"Dear God man, you're going to kill me," I teased, leaning over to kiss him one last time before I hopped out of the truck.

It felt strange to be back in my own apartment after the last few days. I changed into work-appropriate clothes as quickly as I could and took off.

My mind was oddly blank. I expected to feel conflicted, to feel like I was doing the wrong thing...but I didn't. I'd liked being with Randy. I wanted to do it again. In fact, I wished I hadn't had to leave him.

I started work automatically, keeping my thoughts away from the unpleasant aspects of my budding relationship with Randy and focusing more on the incredibly pleasurable aspects of the last few days.

"Feeling better?" Sami asked as I approached the bar to fill drinks for my first table.

I smiled at him. "Yeah. Hated to leave you guys in a lurch."

He shrugged. "You never call in. We knew it had to be something serious."

"Thanks for covering for me. You guys are awesome."

He grinned. "Anything for you, Nic."

That name made me freeze for a second, but I recovered quickly and smiled.

The night was running smoothly...up until Randy walked in with a bag of clothes.

He made his way up to the bar. "You didn't need to bring those here," I greeted him, bringing him over a beer.

"Thanks babe. I know I didn't, I just wanted to see you. I spent all afternoon thinking about you."

I smiled. "I spent all afternoon thinking about you too," I admitted.

"Can I get you anything, man?" Sami asked, pushing in beside me.

"No, I'm good." Randy held up his beer. "Cass took care of me."

"Great. Nicole, can I talk to you for a minute?" He took my arm and pulled me to the back. "What the _hell_ is going on?"

"What are you talking about?"

He stared at me incredulously. "That's...your ex, right? The one who you had to _run_ from?"

I rolled my eyes. "Please don't give me a lecture."

"Someone has to!"

"No, someone doesn't! You don't _know_ me, Sami. You don't know anything about me."

"Nic –"

"See?! That just proves it! I'm not _Nicole_. My name is _Cassidy._"

I turned and walked away. I walked up to the bar. I walked up to Randy. "Does your offer still stand?"

He looked confused. "What?"

"The job offer. Is it still on the table?"

"Of course."

I untied my apron and tossed it down on the bar. "Then let's get out of here."


	31. Chapter 31

The sunshine was pouring in through the window. Rather than appreciating it, I groaned and threw the blankets over my head.

"Rise and shine," Randy said, kissing the back of my head. "Come on, baby. Time to get work started."

"Ugh...what _time_ is it?"

"It's late. Seven-thirty." He began shaking my shoulder.

"You are a monster."

"And _you_ need to meet with the roofing company at eight. I figured you'd want to be presentable."

"Do I have to be?"

He laughed. "Not necessarily. You can trot right down there with your hair a mess, wearing your undies and a t-shirt. Might even get us a discount."

I peeled the covers back from my face and glared up at him, sticking my tongue out. He chuckled again, smiling at me while he tied his tie absently. When he was done, he bent down and kissed me.

"It's been so perfect having you here," he said, kissing my forehead. "I love you."

"Yeah yeah," I groaned, throwing the covers the rest of the way off of me. "Go to work."

"I'll see you when I get home," he promised.

"Mmmhmm," I yawned, stretching. "Have a good day."

Once he had finally left the room, I pulled myself out of bed and began getting dressed.

In all, the first week hadn't been as bad as I'd expected. I hadn't really slept in my own bed much – the half-hour drive at the end of a ten-hour day only to turn around and do it again the next morning wasn't entirely appealing. Randy had been more than happy to accommodate me for several nights. I did intend to finally go home tonight – it was Friday, and I'd managed to negotiate weekends off.

Negotiate. I shook my head. There'd been no negotiating. I'd asked; he'd given. I almost felt bad about it. Almost.

The day ran smoothly. The roofers would be starting on Monday – thank God, the leaks in the attic had gotten worse with the last storm we'd had. Once that was done, I could start cleaning the house out. The generations of previous owners had left a lovely collection of...well, junk in the attic and basement.

I fed the boys lunch – Bray was otherwise disposed, as he often seemed to be. Erik ate silently. Luke – who I had discovered really was quite harmless – talked about his morning in the garden, giving me a big smile while he ate.

The painter I'd contacted about the exterior painting showed up early, and I had to rush away, reminding the boys to put their dishes in the sink before I left.

Jim the painter and I were outside, discussing what exactly needed to be done and the timing, considering I had a solid date for the roofers to start. We went over the house and the barn, Jim scribbling notes as we went.

"And what about that...shed?" He asked, pointing towards an outbuilding on the edge of the property that I'd never noticed. It, much like the rest of the house, was in sad shape.

"I...honestly hadn't even noticed it," I laughed. "I guess I could ask the owner what he wants done with it."

He grinned. "Tell you what – you're throwing us a lot of business with the two main buildings; I'll throw the shed in for the cost of the paint."

It sounded like a good deal to me, and I agreed, certain that Randy would be happy about it. I went back into the kitchen, amused to note that Luke was washing the dishes for me. I shooed him away and finished up.

In all, I was satisfied by how the day had gone – and I was sure Randy would be, too. I was excited to fill him in when he came home. He seemed disinterested initially – more focused on wrapping me up in his arms and kissing along my neck while I tried to talk – until I got to the part about the painting.

He froze in his kissing. "I didn't want that painted," he said, pulling back to look at me. "Didn't I tell you that?"

"No."

"Well...when he comes, tell him thanks but no thanks. I don't want anyone touching that shed."

"Ok..." I glanced at him curiously, surprised to see his face turning red.

"Don't make another decision like that without asking me."

"I thought you'd be happy..."

"Well, I'm not. So just...don't. It's my house, you ask my permission first. Got it?"

He let go of me and made his way towards the fridge for a beer. I rolled my eyes. Of course that's where he'd go.

"All right, got it," I replied, trying hard to keep the nasty tone out of my voice. I waited a minute before deciding that it was a shitty end to the week, but my week was indeed over. I walked out, pausing in the hallway to shrug into my jacket.

I slammed the door as I left, not caring if Randy heard. Jerk.

I climbed into my car for the first time in a few days, pleased when it started up without a lot of coaxing. I took off for home, forcing myself to try and push my anger down and relax a bit.

It got better when I walked in through the door to my apartment. I was finally alone, and I was able to drop all of the stress of the last few weeks. I made a beeline for the shower, and I spent a good long while under the hot water.

I hadn't realized how much time I'd been spending with others this week. I'd barely had a minute alone, and while the silence pressed on me at first soon I began to enjoy it.

I reluctantly stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself up in a towel. Of course, that's the precise moment someone chose to hit the buzzer for my door.

Annoyed, I stalked to the box and hit the intercom button. "What?"

"It's me," Randy said. "You left without your paycheck. And...I wanted to apologize for being a dick."

I thought about it for a minute before buzzing him up. It had more to do with the money he had for me than the apology, to be honest.

I unlocked the door for him and went back to try and get dressed. He was faster than I thought, and caught me as I was pulling my panties up.

Apparently he took it as an invitation, throwing his coat off and joining me in my bedroom, shoving me down on the bed.

"What? No..." I muttered, shoving at his shoulders.

"Just let me apologize," he said, kissing my neck roughly while he grabbed my breasts.

"Stop it," I warned.

"Babe," he sighed, pulling away from me. "Let me say that I'm sorry. Please?"

"I'm in no mood for you."

"I can get you in the mood for me. I know I can." He trailed his tongue down my neck, his fingers pinching my nipples.

"Ran..."

He put his fingers over my lips. "Just let me," he repeated.

I figured it was just easier. He slid down, slipping my panties off and burying his face between my thighs.

As angry as I was with him, he was still so good at this. I could feel my body relax, and then begin to respond to his attention.

"See?" He murmured, sliding a finger through my lips to stroke my clit.

"I'm still upset with you."

"I know," he said, hauling himself to lie on the bed beside me. "You have every right to be. I was a jerk, and I'm sorry."

"Why were you such a jerk?" I asked.

"It was stupid. Long day. I was just looking for a reason to be mad, and I took it out on you." He leaned over and kissed my forehead. "What can I do to make it up to you?"

I rolled over onto my side to face him. After a minute, I grinned. "What you were doing was a pretty good start."

He laughed, leaning forward to kiss me. "I have an idea..." He yanked the pillow out from under his head and slid down the bed. He grinned mischievously. "Climb up."

I hesitated a second before straddling his face and allowing him to make it up to me several times before collapsing onto the bed beside him in a sweaty mess.

He let me catch my breath for a minute before pulling me into his arms. "I'm going to stay with you tonight," he said, kissing my forehead. "The idea of a night without you..." He shrugged. "Let's just say it wasn't something I liked. If I have it my way, we'll be together every night from here on out."

He pulled my face up and kissed me. "And you know how hard I work to get my way." He smiled at me.

I felt a shot of dread roll down my spine and I forced myself to smile back. "If there's one thing you get, it's your way," I agreed, trying hard to keep my tone light.

The smile dropped off his face a bit. "I didn't mean..." He shook his head. "Isn't it what you want, too?"

I was sick of fighting with him. I snuggled further into him. "Yeah," I said. "Yeah, it is."

"Then there's no problem." He wrapped his arms tighter around me. "Is there?"

"No," I lied, settling into him. "No problems at all."


	32. Chapter 32

_Randy knew he'd screwed up._

_It wasn't all that hard to see – Cass had always been a terrible liar. He traced back through his steps. Sure, he'd been a dick about the shed. It caught him off-guard after a long day. He'd need to be better about that._

_Then there was the business of coming here, of coming upstairs and seeing her... He'd probably been a bit too pushy._

_It'd just been a _long_ time. And then over the last week, he'd gotten sex whenever he'd wanted it...and he'd started to want it even_more, _if that was possible. The smell of her, the taste of her, the goddamn feel of her was just...addictive._

_He stroked his hand over her shoulder absent-mindedly, his thoughts far away, drifting back to a different time, a different addiction._

_He'd gone through his share of women when Cass had first left. Some were simple; one-night stands. Others tried to push him into relationships. In either event, they didn't last long._

_All except one._

_She was a professional, which was part of the reason it was so easy to maintain a business-like relationship with her – for her, it _was_ business._

_It was Hunter who had first broached the idea with him. They were in a small city – and as if Cass and Dean's disappearances weren't getting enough tongues wagging, Officer Orton's extracurricular activities were quickly becoming a hot topic, writhing the gossipy citizens into a frenzy._

_He'd gone, reluctantly, to meet Jana. He left that room in an entirely different frame of mind._

_Collars. Whips. Handcuffs. Paddles. All the fun little instruments she'd let him use on her, all the ways he was able to bend her to his will._

_It was exactly what he'd always wanted – and never received – from Cassidy. Total and utter submission._

_Of course, it was only an illusion. Jana held the power in that situation, and he respected that. But it didn't stop him from losing himself in the fantasy._

_He glanced over at Cass, curled up and sleeping on his chest. She was still so reluctant to be his. He supposed he could understand that logically, but emotionally it only served to build up a small ball of frustration in his chest._

_He would give her _everything_. Anything she could dream of or ask for, he would provide it...but only if he could have what he dreamed of._

_He wasn't sure that he'd get that from her. Idly, he wondered if it was worth the fight. Then she shifted and murmured in her sleep, and the truth stabbed at him –_

_Of course she was. It was her or nothing._

_Even Jana, the perfect little specimen she was, had only interested him in a clinical sort of way. Nice tits, tight pussy, talented tongue. Nice parts, but the whole didn't interest him. Not like Cass did._

_He could hear Kelly's laughter in his head. Sweet, not mocking, as she'd told him that he had it _bad_ and there was no cure for it except for her._

_She was right._

_He rubbed his hand over his eyes tiredly. It wasn't the ideal situation, but he couldn't see any other way. He needed Cass; he always had. Leaning over, he pressed his lips against her forehead before falling back on his pillow._

_He'd find a way to start making it right tomorrow._

_When he woke up the following morning, Cass was still asleep. He slipped out of bed and wrestled into his clothing, fighting against the exhaustion that seemed to stay with him these days._

_He crept out of her apartment, taking her keys so that he could get back in without disturbing her, and went in search of breakfast. He came back, laden with food and coffee, only to hear the shower running._

_He set everything up and went to knock to see how much longer she'd be. When she didn't answer, he shoved the door open and yanked the curtain aside, an irrational fear rising from the pit of his stomach._

_She shrieked when she saw him. "Jesus Christ!"_

"_Sorry, sorry," he let go of the curtain, backing away. "I just...you didn't answer. I wanted to make sure you were all right."_

"_I'm fine," she assured him, ducking her head under the water to rinse the shampoo from her hair. "Where did you go this morning?"_

"_I bought us breakfast," he explained. "It's all on the table whenever you're done."_

"_Thanks. I'll be out in a few."_

_He waited for her, his mind wandering back to Jana. He'd stopped seeing her pretty abruptly after she'd suggested that maybe _he'd_ like to be the one tied up and ordered around._

_It was his first exercise in holding his temper. He'd been steamed, but he hadn't lost his cool. He'd only suggested – perhaps a bit coldly – that she didn't know him as well as she thought she did._

_She hadn't cared. It would take more than him pulling his business from her to offend a hooker. Especially one in such high demand as Jana._

_These thoughts were interrupted when Cass walked in, fully dressed and eying him cautiously – as if she expected him to throw everything off the table and jump her right then and there._

_He'd done more damage than he'd realized._

_He tried to be sweet and charming, and she seemed to relax a bit._

"_Hey," he said after he finished his last mouthful of coffee, "I'm sorry about barging in here on you last night. I'm sorry if...if I pushed you or made you uncomfortable."_

_It wasn't easy for him to say these things, but he knew it was necessary. He pushed on._

"_I just...goddamn, woman, what can I say? It was a long time before you came back, and anyone else I had...they just weren't you." He shrugged. "It was like...having a fish stick after you've been given lobster. It's easy to get carried away, but...that's no excuse. I'm sorry."_

_She contemplated his apology for a minute before reaching for her coffee and finishing it up._

"_I can understand that," she replied after a moment. "I'm really... Thanks. For apologizing. It means a lot."_

_He reached across the table and covered her hand with his, fighting to keep the smile off of his face. "Of course, baby." He squeezed her hand. "So what did you want to do today? Bray's got a meeting at one, but otherwise our day is free."_

_The expression on her face changed, and he instinctively knew that he wasn't going to like what she had to say next. No matter what, he needed to keep his head._

"_I was actually...I have a lot to do around here today."_

_So she didn't want him around. He bit his tongue to the point of pain so that he could reply as neutrally as possible after a few seconds._

"_Sure thing. Just going to hang out, clean up, catch up on the bills?"_

"_Yeah," she shrugged. "Maybe hit up the bookstore, something to do for those nights you're working long hours."_

_He forced a smile on his face. "All right, pretty lady." He stood up and stretched. "I've got a bunch of things to tend to back home myself."_

_He walked over to her chair and bent down to plant a kiss on her lips. She smiled up at him, but it was impossible not to notice the hesitance in her expression...almost like she was keeping something from him._

_He tried to shake the feeling as he made his way down to the truck. He even forced himself to sit for a minute and breathe, trying to rationalize._

_In the end, he couldn't do it. He picked up the phone and sent a text message._

_'Keep an eye on her today, all right?'_

_After a minute, his phone beeped at him in reply – 'u got it'_

_Satisfied, he started the engine and made his way back home._


End file.
